


Astronomy

by Gort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A little bit of Pipsy, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Cryo!Fitz rescue, Deke the reluctant hero, F/M, Happy Ending, Jemma's dealing with a lot, Perthshire Cottage, Pregnancy, post 5x22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: Post Season 5. Jemma is struggling to cope with Fitz’s death when she discovers she’s pregnant, throwing all her plans into disarray. Unable to chase after the Fitz that might still be frozen in space, she chooses a different path. Luckily, Deke has nothing to do, all the time in the world, and a knack for finding his family.A Fitzsimmons family saga. Beta’d by Sunalso.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The excellent adventures of Deke and his grandpa were pretty much the only way I could cope with the ending of Season 5. I promise it ends happily (or Sun would disown me).

Every day was the same.

It was what Jemma liked most about her new town. She placed a hand on the gentle swell of her belly. Their town, she amended.

It wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined, back when she’d still held onto the belief that good would overcome evil, and that no matter how many close calls there were, there would always be a way through them. Together, always together. She’d never thought she’d be alone. She hadn’t prepared. She still couldn’t wrap her head around it. When she tried, her mind skittered sideways, searching for a solution to the only problem she’d never be able to solve.

Fitz was dead, and he wasn’t coming back.

It still felt unreal. She hadn’t even known he was gone, hadn't felt the great shift in her universe. Shouldn’t she have known? She lifted her eyes to the grey skies overhead, squinting at the heavy clouds. Fitz was right. They were cursed.

Had been right.

It was hard to think of him in the past tense. She still expected to find him in the kitchen when she woke up in the morning, fixing tea just the way she liked it. He always had been a restless sleeper, never able to shut his brain down for very long, while she slept such regular hours it was a joke between them. He’d teased her once, long ago, about hoarding all the beauty in the world, and she’d laughed, embarrassed and pleased all at once, before going about her day. She wanted to go back to that moment and cradle his face in her hands; she wanted to tell him he clearly didn’t need any sleep at all. She wanted to tell him about the beautiful being they’d made, growing inside her.

She wanted to tell him a thousand things, every minute of every day. Their next adventure was never meant to be started without him.

A fat raindrop splattered on her face, startling her out of her melancholy. Jemma blinked, wondering how long she’d been standing in the middle of the sidewalk and staring at nothing. Luckily, the village was small enough people didn’t seem to mind accommodating her eccentricities, though sometimes she’d come back to herself only to find someone watching her with a knowing look in their eye.

Fitz might be gone, but at least in this place there were still pieces of him everywhere. She could hear him in the voice of the man behind the counter at the market and see him in the faces of the small boys racing by on the pavement. She could smell him in the morning air, just before sunrise, when she stood on the back stoop of her tiny cottage and watched the sky slowly lighten, the hills around her painted in more shades of green than she’d ever realized existed.

She’d picked this hamlet at random, after staring at a map in a bus station in Edinburgh through a blur of tears for who knew how long. She’d gotten used to losing those tiny bits of time when her mind seemed to disconnect from her body, searching for a lodestone that was no longer there.

She’d felt like she could breathe for the first time when she’d gotten out of the cab in the tiny central square, surrounded by low stone buildings that had been there long before her, and would be long after she was gone. Even the on again, off again drizzle was welcome, hiding the tears that sometimes came on without her noticing.

Memory was long here, steeped into the bedrock under her feet, carved into the stone walls and the aged beams. It made her feel a little less alone, knowing others had endured the kind of pain she carried.

Her friends had done their best to understand, offering condolences, encouraging her to work, to keep busy, to move on, to accept.

To start again.

For a moment, even she had believed it was possible. Instead, everything had unraveled.

***

_Two months earlier_

Deke leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs while he watched a nearby group of people mill around, hugging each other and putting on their jackets. He’d picked this place for lunch mostly because it was open, and because the first two places he’d stopped in told him they didn’t have any Zima.

Man, what the hell was with people from the past? Beer—which tasted like wet socks and rotten oranges—was _horrible_. Zima was delicious. And…refreshing, he read off the label, squinting a little. And it had tasted great with his buffalo wings, despite the guy who’d served him being really snobby about it. He poked at the tiny bones on his plate and wondered if he’d seen any buffalos yet. All the birds looked the same to him, they were mostly just bigger or smaller, depending. He’d have to ask someone later.

The large group was finally leaving, a few of them wiping away tears like he’d seen a bunch of people doing lately. They didn’t even seem to realize they’d been saved from the _whole earth_ cracking apart and pretty much everyone dying. A few million people crumbling to dust was a small price to pay. He didn’t know exactly what Daisy and the rest of them had done, but obviously, it’d worked, because the earth was still here, and the sun was still shining. Deke was kind of surprised he was also still here since Na-Jemma and Fitz seemed to think he’d disappear once they broke the time loop.

Looked like he’d proven their theory wrong. Boy, were they going to be surprised when he came back. He wondered how long it would be before his mom was born. Wait, if he was here and the world hadn’t ended, did that mean his mom wasn’t his mom anymore? Or maybe…ugh, time travel made his head hurt. He settled all four chair legs on the floor again with a thump.

Deke raised his bottle to his lips, only to find it disappointingly empty. He sighed and set it down, perking up when he noticed everyone at the table he’d been eyeing were finally gone, and, lucky for him, they’d left a pile of green paper on it. The first time he’d seen that happen, he’d been flabbergasted. Past humanity was way too trusting, no wonder those alien guys managed to take over so easily.

Casually, Deke stood up and sauntered in the direction of the table, swiping the tokens and stuffing them in his pockets.

“Hey!” anti-Zima guy yelled, but Deke was already halfway to the door. His heart was pounding as he sprinted out of the bar and down the street, his blood thrumming through his veins like it used to when he was running a con on someone and they hadn’t realized it yet. He laughed as he slowed down, turning a corner and ducking into a narrow space between two buildings to catch his breath and see how much he’d made.

He quickly flipped through the papers, adding up the numbers in the corners—another annoyance that using electronic tokens solved—and ending on a total that was hopefully enough for the bus ticket he had his eye on.

Deke poked his head out of the alley and peered cautiously in both directions before strolling away like he hadn’t a care in the world, his head filled with images of bright lights and the wonders of the world.

***

They’d tried for the better part of a week to establish contact with someone, anyone, from the remnants of SHIELD, but every message went unanswered.

Coulson showed slow but steady improvement, and Jemma tried so hard not to resent him for living when Fitz hadn’t, plastering on a brittle smile when she checked his vitals and averting her eyes when May took his hand.

Everyone treated her like she was made of glass, their voices gentle and their words carefully chosen, but no one seemed to realize it was too late. She’d already shattered, her insides a morass of broken dreams and memories with sharp edges.  

She’d tried to keep her mind occupied, to not picture the final time she’d seen Fitz’s face, slack and expressionless and so unlike him she’d wanted to shout at everyone that they were wrong, that it wasn’t her Fitz at all. She spent all her time in the lab, unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time, her nightmares bleeding into reality until she could barely tell the two apart, though she didn’t have a dimensional rift to blame it on anymore.

She hadn’t even been sure what she was working on until the very edges of an idea floated to the surface of her mind and refused to go away.

Something she was willing to share.

“Jemma?” Daisy’s brow creased with worry, and Jemma realized she must have been staring into space for longer than she’d thought. “You said you wanted to tell us something?”

Mack shifted uncomfortably near the doorway of the control room, and Coulson was leaning against May, upright for the first time in nearly a week. She should tell him that he was pushing himself too hard, too quickly, but she couldn’t be sure those were the words that would come out of her mouth, so she continued to bite her tongue.

“Have you seen Deke?” Jemma asked instead, already bracing herself for the answer. The universe wasn’t sentimental. It didn’t grant reprieves. What was one more blow when everything had already fallen apart?

“Um.” Daisy caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “He said he wanted to see the world, before, you know.” She made a half-hearted gesture. “Everything.”

Jemma nodded, unable to find the energy for anything more. Another piece of the life she and Fitz were supposed to have, gone forever. She closed her eyes for a moment as nausea swept through her. “We have to find Fitz,” she finally breathed.

There was silence.

She opened her eyes to find four pairs of eyes trained on her, containing varying degrees of pity and concern. She drew in a breath, feeling like none of it reached her lungs. “He’s…he took the long way to the future, remember? So there must be…he should be…out there, somewhere. Only the future he’s trying to reach doesn’t exist anymore.” She stopped, relieved to have gotten it all out.

No one’s expression changed, and Jemma began to feel lightheaded. She clenched her jaw so tight she would swear it creaked. She had to make them understand. “Time isn’t looping anymore,” she began.

It took her another half an hour and a hastily drawn flow chart, but by the end, the others had enthusiastically taken up the cause of finding Fitz, wherever he was. Both their initial confusion and their unswerving belief that everything was suddenly fine had exhausted her. So many things could still go wrong, so many variables had been changed.

Even if she could figure out where Fitz might be, even if she could wake him early from his cryogenic sleep without harm, even if he was, fundamentally, the same Fitz he’d been before—she’d been irrevocably altered. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel such pain. Sometimes it hurt just to open her eyes in the morning, knowing she was alone. She couldn’t lose him again. She’d never survive it. The brief flare of hope that she’d felt was tempered by a fear that crept into her bones and settled there.

At some point May had given her Fitz’s ring, closing her fingers around it and telling her not to worry, they’d made sure there wouldn’t be complications when they found Fitz again. She’d said more, but the words just washed over Jemma as she wondered how the weight of her grief could fit into the palm of her hand.

And still, somehow, things got worse.

Daisy alerted them to the news reports and they watched story after story of the mass casualties sweeping across the globe, riveted and horrified by turns. Roughly half of humanity had been indiscriminately turned to ash and blown away, all because of some alien madman. Their unanswered messages suddenly seemed more like portents.

The first thing that had flitted through Jemma’s mind was that Fitz had died for nothing, and she’d hated herself for it. He’d died to stop the world from being destroyed, and she knew should be so proud of him for that, no matter what came after.

There’d been a heated debate about why they'd all survived when so many people had not, and in the end they’d all turned to Jemma expectantly, waiting for her final verdict. She worried the ring on her thumb, desperately missing Fitz and wanting to get back to her calculations, trying to figure out what part of space might be hiding him when it struck her.

They might already be too late.  

Her legs nearly collapsed from underneath her, but she caught herself and tried to swallow her terror. Dazedly, she offered some half-formed hypothesis about the remnants of the time loop protecting them all, and then stumbled back to her room, curled up in bed with Fitz’s pillow, and cried herself hoarse. If her theory was even partially correct, that meant the Fitz she was searching for wouldn't have had the same protection. Bile rose in her throat as the last hope for an imagined reunion she clung to crumbled to dust.

Nights were the worst, when the utter stillness of the Lighthouse gave her no solace from the doubts plaguing her mind. In her darkest moments, when Jemma was alone and unable to sleep in the silent room she'd shared with her husband for mere days, she wished the earth actually had cracked apart instead of just her world.

Twenty-one and half days after Fitz had died, and the third day in a row she found herself rushing between her worktable in the awful quiet of the lab and the loo, unable to keep any food down, Jemma finally broke.

Coulson found her huddled against the console where she’d been trying to plot a potential trajectory for a spacecraft she had no specifications for, that’d launched from somewhere in the millions of square miles that made up North America. They’d been trying, without success, to track down Hunter, and Jemma was dreading the moment they found out he, too, was gone.

“Jemma.” Coulson’s tone was gentle, which only made her cry harder. “Hey, talk to me, what’s going on?”

She tried to take a breath and slow her sobs, but apparently she wasn’t quite finished, so instead, she just shook her head and gave in to the bone-deep sorrow inside of her.

Coulson gingerly lowered himself to the floor beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, giving her a companionable squeeze as her body shook with sobs. “You’ll find him, Jemma,” he said when her tears slowed.

Jemma lifted one trembling hand, showing him her cell phone. “No, it’s…they’re not answering. Not at home, or work, not their mobiles. It’s been over a week.” She’d left both of her parents multiple stilted messages, trying to convey urgency without going into details about every unbelievable thing she’d been through since they last spoke. She hadn’t been able to press send on the call to Fitz’s mum. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to.

Coulson frowned at her phone screen. “Your parents?” He sounded surprised. “I’m sure they’re fine. You know communications have been spotty everywhere.”

If she didn’t know him so well, she might have missed the telltale false note of cheer he forced into his voice when things were definitely not good. She must look like a complete wreck if he was trying to soothe her. She wiped at her face with the palm of one hand and let her phone clatter to the ground. “They’re gone,” she said dully, her tears finally subsiding. “Everyone’s gone.”

Coulson was silent beside her, and she appreciated that he wasn’t offering the kind of platitudes Daisy and Piper couldn’t seem to stop blurting out whenever she was in the room. She knew they meant well, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to scream just to drown out their words.

Searching for Fitz was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, except the haystack was infinite and the needle the size of an atom, if it was there at all. And now…she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, despair welling up deep inside of her.

Coulson went still beside her. “What?”

Jemma scrubbed at her face again, forcing herself to say the words a bit louder. “I want to go home.”

“Of course,” Coulson said, his tone kind. “Do you want me to talk to Mack?”

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “No, I’d better.” She’d been avoiding Mack for weeks, angry that he’d been the one at Fitz’s side in those last moments and not her. She’d been angrier still that whatever had happened between him and Fitz would never be resolved, and that Fitz might have died thinking he was anything less than the amazing man she knew. She knew it wasn’t fair, but none of her feelings had been very rational lately.

“If you want.” Coulson gave her a reassuring half-hug. “I know things are tough right now, but we’ll get him back, Jemma, you’ll see.”      

Jemma’s chest felt so tight it was hard to speak. “Yes, sir,” she choked out.

Coulson left a minute later, after patting her knee and climbing back to his feet, wincing. He moved a lot slower than he used to, but the fact that he was up at all was a miracle. Jemma stayed where she was for a long time after Coulson left, in case anyone else turned up, but he must have been the one designated to check on her today because the door remained firmly shut and the lab eerily quiet.

She stared blankly at the desk Fitz had claimed for his own, hating that the last time he’d sat there, she hadn’t known it would be the last time. She couldn’t even remember what they’d talked about, other than the Centipede serum. Had she made him laugh, or stolen his tea, or snuck a kiss in, or done any of the silly, mundane things she missed more than anything now that he was gone?

Finally, she stood and made her way back to her own workstation, opening the results of the last test she’d run. One for herself. She’d had her suspicions, but there hadn’t been time to confirm anything before…before. She should have made time.

She should have done a thousand things differently.

But now it was just her and the last tiny piece of Fitz she had left in the world growing inside of her, and she had to make a choice.

She was terribly aware of what he would have wanted, and even as she railed against the imaginary Fitz in her head, she knew he was right. She couldn’t expose their child to the risks of space travel to chase after shadows. The detrimental effects on bone density alone, not to mention the loss of muscle mass, were more than enough to worry her, and those were studies done on adults.

It was a horrible choice. An impossible choice.

And one she’d already made.


	2. Two

Jemma clutched the blanket around her shoulders tightly, standing on the back stoop and watching the hill slowly turn from grey to green as the sun rose. Her tea was lukewarm, but she wasn’t ready to go back inside yet. The last of the stars were still visible through the wispy clouds and it wasn’t often she got to watch them wink out, unable to outshine their closer cousin.

She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours, but at least she’d slept. She was so tired all the time, and yet when she lay down she found herself staring at the ceiling and imagining all the ways things could have been different if she’d just been clever enough to see what was coming.

The empty space beside her magnified everything that’d gone wrong, mocking her inability to save the one person who mattered most. Nights were still the worst, but at least here, in this cottage, every object wasn’t imbued with his ghost.

Leaving it all behind had been much so easier than she’d expected, though the guilt still weighed on her mind. She’d tried so many times to think of what to say, how to explain to the others why she had made this decision, but all she’d been able to picture were their expressions of betrayal when she told them she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t chase after a Fitz who might be a figment of her imagination, because if he wasn’t there…she would never recover.

She’d hated her cowardice enough for them all.

They’d said their goodbyes to May and Coulson, leaving them to their semi-retirement and Jemma had barely managed to keep herself from falling to pieces before she’d gotten back to her room and curled up around the toilet, her new, loathsome companion. She’d vomited up every meager bit of food she’d managed to swallow at lunchtime, her throat burning and her eyes watering.

She’d wanted to be happy for her friends, she really did, but she couldn’t remember what happiness felt like. Lately, every conversation had been a struggle as she tried to keep from blurting out that whatever they were talking about didn’t matter anymore. Nothing would change the fact that Fitz was gone. The Fitz who’d traveled through space and time to marry her, and promised he’d never leave.

Of all the imagined scenarios that’d played through her mind when she’d thought of the family she and Fitz would make together, none had contained an enormous gaping hole where he should be.

Jemma had shuddered through another stomach spasm, bringing up next to nothing, and rested her head against the cool metal of the toilet. She couldn’t keep doing this. Every inch of this place reminded her of what she’d lost, and what she could lose if she stayed.

Mack hadn’t batted an eye when she’d asked to go home, offering to fly her there the next day. She’d packed all of Fitz’s things that she could fit in the single suitcase she was allowing herself to take. She could get new clothes, but she couldn’t bear to leave anything of his behind.

The last thing she’d seen before she’d stepped into the watery sunlight of Devon had been Daisy’s concerned expression, but Jemma still hadn’t been able to bring herself to say goodbye.

Jemma’s parents’ house had been empty. She’d mechanically gone through the rooms for anything of value, trying not to dwell on the accumulation of dust that her mother would never have allowed. She’d closed her bank account and bought a ticket to London with cash.

And the chasm inside her, where her grief had settled and became a gnashing, painful sea, had grown wider.

Jemma stared up at the lightening sky, wondering if the heartache would ever ease, or if she’d just learn to carry on despite it. She finished the last dregs of her tea and brushed her hand across her belly, the only family she had left.

***

“I’m telling you, these are way better than whatever you’re having,” Deke said, brandishing his Zima bottle.

The guy Deke was talking to was nearly in tears, he was laughing so hard. “What the hell,” the guy said. “Where did you even find one of those? Is this some kind of viral marketing thing? Where’s the camera?” He swiveled in his seat, swaying slightly, and while Deke hadn’t the faintest idea what this guy was talking about, he knew an opening when he saw one. Maybe he hadn’t inherited his family’s book-smarts, but he was still pretty damn clever if he did say so himself. Which he usually had to, because no one else noticed.

Quickly draining the last of his Zima, Deke laughed too. “You got me. Over there.” He pointed in a random direction and waited until the guy turned that way, waving excitedly, before plucking the white tickets out of the pockets of his jacket where Deke had seen this gullible idiot stash them away. Deke was stuffing them into his own pockets as the guy swiveled back in his direction and slapped him on the shoulder. Deke froze.

“Oh man.” The guy let out another laugh, wiping his eyes. “That was great. Let me buy you a real drink, huh?” Deke nodded cautiously and the guy got up, wavering on his feet for a minute before stumbling towards the bar, his hand already digging into his coat pocket.

Shit. Deke eased himself off his chair and quickly looked around. The door wasn’t far, but he’d been kicked out of four places already and he liked this one. It was always better if they figured out their tokens were missing long after he was gone.

“Hey!” the guy he’d been talking to yelled. “Where’s my money?”

Deke flinched. Crap. Too late. He took off towards the doors in a dead run, catching a glimpse of at least one casino guard making a beeline for him. Dammit, he’d have to split this take with someone later just to get it cashed in. He hoped it was as much as he thought.

He slammed open the door and took off into the night, his blood pumping through his veins as the shouts faded in the distance. The sidewalks were even more crowded now than they were during the day, and he loved how easy it was to blend in here. Plus, everything was bright enough that whenever he woke up, even at night, there was never any confusion about whether he’d suddenly been transported back to that hellhole he’d grown up in.

Sometimes he worried that instead of going back through time, which was pretty insane, someone had messed with his remodeled Framework program and was playing the world’s worst prank on him, but none of the code he’d resurrected had ever looked like this.

Plus, the beer would taste so much better.

Deke turned a corner, ducking into doorway for a moment to catch his breath and check to see if…oh crap, they’d sent uniforms after him. That wasn’t good. He pushed open the door behind him and found himself in another casino. He shed his coat and leisurely strolled through rows of flashing lights and clanging machines. Around him, everyone’s eyes were locked straight ahead. Slot machines, man, whoever came up with the idea was a damn genius.

Slipping out a door on the other side of the block, Deke glanced up and down the street and decided he’d better call it a night. He’d hit up another place tomorrow, maybe work on this whole virus market angle the guy tonight had mentioned. That seemed like it might have some potential.

Deke headed in the general direction of the place he was crashing, settling in for a long walk. He knew taking a cab would be faster, but so far Deke hadn’t really gotten tired of being able to walk for miles in one direction without ending up right where he’d started. Plus, it seemed like pretty much anyone could pilot those metal heaps called cars and they only moved horizontally, which he figured made crashing pretty much inevitable. Better to trust his own two feet, just like he had his entire life.

Also, there was a place along the way that served Zima without giving him any sass about it, and they had this awesome console that played like a _hundred_ different songs. It totally blew his mind.

He crossed the street and stopped, frowning. What the hell was that noise? Looking around, he spotted the pay phone attached to the wall nearby. It was ringing. He frowned at it and kept walking, hearing it cut off mid-ring a few seconds later. Someone must have called the wrong number.

He glanced around after another block and decided he was finally far enough away to check and see what he’d made tonight, pulling the white slips of paper out of his pocket. The first two listed disappointingly low numbers, but he hit the jackpot with the third, grinning at the four-digit payday he’d made for himself and whoever he decided to split it with. Humming his new favorite song, he shoved the papers back in his pocket and then frowned. Was that a phone again?

Deke stopped just short of another payphone as it rang, then he spun and marched ten steps down the block. It stopped. Deke took a deep breath, turned around, and walked ten steps back.

It started ringing again.

What the hell?

Cautiously, he stepped up to the phone and picked up the receiver. “Uh, hello?”

“Deke! Finally, jeez. It’s Daisy.”

“Daisy?” He squinted at the tall buildings around him, waiting for her to miraculously appear out of thin air. He totally knew they had a special connection. “How the hell did you find me?”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Dude, you’re like a walking petty theft charge. I just followed the reports to Vegas and then hacked into the surveillance cameras.”

“Awesome!” Deke said. “Hey, what’s a petty theft charge?” He was pretty sure she grumbled something about being too old for this, but since she was basically his age, it made no sense.

“Look,” Daisy began. There was a long silence, and Deke thought for a minute they’d been disconnected. “We need your help.”

“You do?” he asked, holding the phone away from his ear to stare incredulously at it before remembering he couldn’t hear her when he held it like that. “Uh, I mean, that’s cool. I’m not super busy right now. I could probably spare a couple days.” He paused. “Or weeks, depending. Wait, what do you need my help with, exactly?”

“Oh my god,” Daisy said. He could picture the way she was massaging her temple just then, and it was adorable. She’d missed him, he just knew it. “It’s…look, it’s about Fitzsimmons, okay?”

Deke clutched the phone tightly. “What? What about them. Are they okay? Did something happen?” He frantically patted his chest, reassuring himself that he was still there. “Daisy?”

“It’s a long story,” she said. “We’ll tell you when you get here.” His heart sank. He knew what that meant. It was the kind of thing people had said right before they’d told him about the death of his father, and then his mother. Something awful had happened to his grandparents.

He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on not making his voice waver. “Yeah, okay. Where do you want me to meet you?”

“Someone will come get you, give us a few.”

Deke nodded and hung up before realizing he’d forgotten to answer out loud. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, wondering what he was going to do now. It wasn’t like he’d expected Fitz or Jemma to give him the childhood he’d never had, but he’d liked knowing they were out there, somewhere. They’d been his last connection to the only home he’d ever known.

And now he was alone again.

***

Jemma was definitely, irrevocably, missing the one book she needed. She tried not to panic, concentrating on her breathing even as she felt her pulse pounding in her ears. Where had it gone? Had she forgotten to renew it at the library earlier this week? It wasn’t time for her to go again just yet. This wasn’t what she’d planned for her day. She wasn’t prepared to leave the house just to track down something silly like a book she should already have.

Today, she was supposed to work on completing the left quadrant of the star chart she was creating, working off the notes she’d made last week. She wanted to finish it before the baby came because god knew she wouldn’t have much time for it afterward. But somehow, she didn’t have the right book. How could she have forgotten it?

Drawing the chart by hand took so much longer than it would have if she’d had any of the equipment that she was used to, but she couldn’t risk doing otherwise. Her friends weren’t fools, and she wasn’t ready for them to find her, to face their disappointment. She knew she’d failed them. She’d failed everyone.

The beginnings of a headache made itself known behind her left temple and Jemma clutched her notes in her in her hand, listening to the paper crinkle.

Breathe in. Count to five.

Breathe out. Count to five.

Begin again.

Slowly, she stopped trembling, loosening her hold on notes and setting them aside. Carefully, she smoothed down the pages. She was being ridiculous. It was an easy thing to fix, and she had faced much more difficult problems in her life. Granted, Fitz had usually been there, but she doubted he’d think she was incapable of making it to the library and back without his help. Another breath, in and out, and her vision stopped going fuzzy around the edges.

“Right,” she whispered to herself, sliding her hand down to her belly. “We’ll just go get it then.”

She straightened her spine and glanced out the window, glad to see that it was light enough that the library would be open soon. It wasn’t her usual routine, but that didn’t mean something terrible was going to happen. She twisted the ring around her thumb nervously and went to get dressed.

Nothing on the other side of that door could be worse than what she’d already faced.

***

“You lost Jemma?” Deke said incredulously. He should never have agreed to come back to the Lighthouse after trying so hard to get out of this place. “Are you serious? You found me with a pay phone in the middle of Vegas! Why don’t you try that?”

Daisy slumped wearily back in her chair. “I did.”

“Okay, fine. Well, if you and Fitz couldn’t find her I have no idea how I’m supposed to. Where is he, anyways, tracking down leads?”

Mack dragged a hand down his face. It hadn’t escaped Deke’s notice that everyone in the room had waited for his nod before Daisy had launched into the story about how, after a somehow not-dead Coulson had retired along with May, Jemma had gone to visit her parents (he had great-grandparents? He hadn’t even _thought_ of that) who she hadn’t been able to get ahold of since the world had half-ended (well crap, scratch the great-grandparents) and then she’d vanished.

“Deke,” Mack said, his expression serious. “That’s why you’re here, to help us find Fitz.”

“You lost him, too?” Deke flung his arms up in frustration. “What the hell, how much time do you all spend finding each other? Has anyone ever considered nice, sensible trackers?”

Piper, her hip propped against the desk right behind Daisy, wrinkled her nose. “Sounds a little dystopian to me.”

“Hey, I know what that means now,” Deke said, pointing a finger at her. “And I don’t know if you noticed but it’s not like your brave new world is all sunshine and roses out there.” He paused. “Metaphorically, I mean, since it is sunny, and can we talk about how many colors roses come in? Because man, in the books-”

“Deke!” Daisy took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “Listen. Something happened, and Jemma…she didn’t take it well, okay?” Dread curdled in Deke’s stomach. “We can’t find her because she doesn’t want to be found, and the only way to help her is to get to Fitz.”

Deke rubbed the back of his neck, confused. “I still have no idea why I’m here.”

Mack grumbled something under his breath and Elena put a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re here because you know things about space none of us do, and without Fitz or Jemma…” She spread her hands wide, her robotic fingers flexing. “All we have is you.”

Deke furrowed his brow and tried to decide if that was an insult or not. He settled on not just as Daisy spoke again, “Fitz is probably somewhere out there in space, waiting to thaw out in another seventy years to save us from a future that no longer exists. We have to find him.”

“Oh,” Deke said, surprised. Well, that was better than…hey, wait a minute. “Hey, wait a minute. If Fitz is frozen, but he also came back with us, doesn’t that mean there’s-”

Daisy shook her head, staring at the floor. “He didn’t make it,” she said quietly.

Deke’s jaw dropped. “He didn’t…of course he makes it! He and Jemma both make it! They’re supposed to have my mom and then…and then…the time loop doesn’t exist,” he finished in a whisper. “Things changed.”

Daisy rubbed her temple wearily. “Things changed,” she agreed. Piper put a hand on her shoulder and Deke tried to process what they were saying.

“This wasn’t how it went at all,” he said, bewildered. “Did Jemma know about the whole…other Fitz thing?”

Daisy nodded. “She was working out where we should look for him, and then…she left.”

There was a long silence as Deke digested all this. “Okay. So we have to find the frozen Fitz, and he’ll help us find Jemma, right?” he finally said. “Are we sure he’s still out there, even though the time loop’s broken?”

Daisy’s eyes darted to Mack. “We’re not,” Mack confessed. “That whole crazy dusting event was pretty widespread, but he wasn’t on earth at the time, so hopefully…”

Deke blew out a breath and decided to hell with it. He might still have at least one family member, so he should probably try and find him. “What do you want me to do?”


	3. Three

Deke squinted at the paper in front of him and then looked over at the map spread out on the table in his grandparents’ lab. Their old lab, he amended, since they were both gone and might not be coming back. Okay, so if this circled area matched…ugh. Deke dropped his head onto the table and groaned. He had no idea what any of these crazy-long strings of numbers meant and he had even less of an idea as to why these guys thought he could help with any of this.

He wasn’t his freaking genius grandparents, which, to be honest, were kind of a hard act to follow. They’d practically read each other’s enormous brains and somehow miracles popped out. Like his mom.

He was still having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that Fitz—one of the Fitzs—had died. Everyone seemed really broken up about it, too. Man, time travel was a complete head trip. He couldn’t believe the grandpa he’d just met was already a vacancy, and the one they were looking for had never met him in the first place. It was confusing and weird and was he supposed to be sad or happy? On the plus side, he hadn’t made the best first impression, so maybe that would go better this time. If they found him.

Deke rubbed a hand over his eyes and turned back to the pile of notes and the tablet Daisy had shown him, explaining they were everything they’d found after Jemma had gone. Deke had spent the last little while organizing the papers by shortest amount of writing to longest, figuring if none of it was going to make any sense he might as well start with the easy stuff.

Except it turned out even the easy stuff was really, painfully over his head. He was great at two things: surviving despite the odds and convincing people to trust him at least once. Hard work was not something that usually assisted with either of those things, so he tended to avoid it.

Also, how was it that he, the only person who hadn’t been educated on this planet, had gotten stuck trying to decipher this stuff? He plucked the top sheet of paper off the stack and tossed it to the floor, moving to the next indecipherable string of numbers and letters. He knew it wasn’t computer code, which had buoyed his spirits for a least a minute and proved he wasn’t a total moron.

He should tell Daisy that later, but, like, really draw it out, spin it like he’d spent hours making sure there was no code hiding in all this crazy math. Perfect.

The door to the lab cracked open and Deke jerked his head up hopefully, but it was just Davis. “Oh, hey man, I haven’t figured anything out yet, sorry.”  

Davis furrowed his brow and glanced at his watch. “Uh, yeah, I figured, I only picked you up like two hours ago.”

Deke groaned and let his head thunk back down onto the table. “Oh my god, it feels like I’ve been in here for an eternity. This is worse than breaking rocks.” Davis chuckled like Deke had told a good joke and Deke lifted his head, confused, as Davis dragged a chair over so he could sit at the table, too. “What are you doing?” Deke asked.

Davis paused. “Oh, I just…do you mind?” He gestured at the empty chair. Deke shook his head wordlessly and Davis dropped heavily into the chair, sighing. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. It’s been really tense around here lately.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I mean, I get it, you go through the stuff the others went through together, there’s a bond. I know they don’t mean to leave the rest of us out, but sometimes I think they forget other people were there, too. For some of it, anyway.” He glanced at Deke. “Piper’s been keeping me up to date. Do you think we can really find him?”

“Fitz?” Deke said, surprised. “Uh…” He stared at the papers in front of him. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

David nodded. “Yeah, I figured.” He dropped his eyes to the map on the table, reaching out to touch one cluster of stars that had been circled. “She was trying really hard, but it hurt just to look at her, you know?”

“Jemma?”

“Yeah.” Davis lifted his head. “It didn’t really seem fair, for them to make it through all that and then…” He shrugged one shoulder.

“Life’s not really fair, man,” Deke couldn’t help but point out.

“Still,” Davis bent over and picked up the piece of paper Deke had tossed on the floor. “I wish we could have helped, somehow. But if she couldn’t do it, I don’t see how we can.” He carefully centered the paper over the map and frowned at it. “This kind of stuff is all gibberish to me.” He glanced up and smiled ruefully. “Makes about as much sense as Robin’s drawings.”

Deke let out a snort. “Yeah, that’s…” he trailed off, inspiration striking. “Hey, do we still have all those?”

“All what?”

“Robin’s drawings?” Deke stood up, suddenly hopeful for the first time since he’d agreed to tackle this stupid project.

“Um, I think there’s a few? I can ask Piper if…”

“Let’s go,” Deke said, grabbing Davis’s arm and dragging him towards the door. “I think I might actually have an idea.”

***

It’d taken a little longer than usual to walk to the library, probably because Jemma had to keep stopping and reminding herself to breathe. Her chest felt tight, and her pulse was quite elevated and she really needed to get ahold of herself and stop believing that every step was only taking her closer to tragedy.

She slid her hand down over her belly to reassure herself the small bump was still there before sticking her hands back in her pockets. She should have worn a hat. The wind was blowing her hair every which way even though she’d pulled it back.

It was still early enough that the building was nearly deserted, and the tension in her shoulders unwound just a little. She ached all the time, inside and out, her muscles sore and her stomach roiling with regret and a faint, ever-present nausea. Hopefully, she could find her book in peace. Concentrating on anything other than what she needed to do to get herself home again was beyond her capabilities.

If she hadn’t needed the damn book, she wouldn’t have left the cottage at all.

She used to be fearless, she was almost certain. She’d explored the unknown and solved the impossible. She’d passed through time and space more than once and had always found a way to get home again.

Back when home had always meant Fitz.

She’d been unafraid, then. Before she’d realized that she’d built her life on a foundation that wasn’t there any longer, and everything had fallen to pieces.

She nearly stumbled as her vision blurred, pausing to steady herself against a scarred wooden bookcase. She was almost to the right section. Fighting back tears, Jemma tried to remember her breathing, feeling stupid and useless and tired. She was always so tired.

She shook her head as she fought to keep the anger and grief at bay. She didn’t have time for this, she was supposed to be working on her star chart. How was she going to show the baby all the distant places Fitz might be if she didn’t finish the damn chart?

Twisting the ring on her thumb, Jemma concentrated on the smooth metal under her fingertips. She could do this. She just had to get one book, that was all. She made her way to the right shelf, relieved to find the wayward book she was looking for, her hand shaking only a little when she retrieved it.

Slowly, she made her way to the front desk and the familiar head of grey hair behind it. Hattie had been practically the first person Jemma had met in this place. And the only person, really, if she didn’t count the clerk down at the market whose name she still hadn’t caught.

“This one again, eh?” Hattie said, taking the book from her. “Thought you might have memorized it by now.”

Jemma shook her head and attempted a smile. Hattie never seemed to mind that Jemma didn’t always have it in her to carry on a conversation, and while the librarian had occasionally given her sympathetic looks over the stacks of pregnancy books Jemma had checked out, she’d never once asked about the father, and for that Jemma was grateful. Dissolving into tears at the library counter likely wouldn’t be a very quiet event.

Hattie began to type into the ancient computer on the counter, hitting one key before hunting for the next. Everything felt like it was taking an agonizingly long time, and all Jemma wanted was to get back to the comfort of the cottage’s stone walls surrounding her, keeping the world at bay.

“Hattie!” a man called from the doorway, startling Jemma. He looked to be about the same age as Hattie, with deep lines etched into his face and a well-worn cap tugged down over his ears. Jemma sighed, thinking of the wind outside. She really should have worn a hat.

Hattie looked up and smiled. “Marcus, they’ve just come in, hang on.” She set Jemma’s book aside and shuffled over to an ancient metal cart tucked against the wall, piled high with stacks of books wrapped in rubber bands, a piece of paper marking each one.

“I’m grateful to you,” Marcus said, moving slowly across the foyer. He rested one gnarled hand on the counter. “Ruth’s not one to complain, but she keeps getting these bruises and she hasn’t been sleeping well. It’s not been easy since the nurse…god rest her, along with all those other poor souls. The agency’s shorthanded, and no one’s come to replace her.”

Hattie set a couple of books on the counter that covered basic elder care, smiling sympathetically. “I can’t imagine,” she said. “Tell Ruth I said hello.”

Marcus nodded and picked up the books with a sigh. “Thanks for these.”

Jemma sucked in a breath as something clicked on in her brain. Bruises. Trouble sleeping. Those were things she knew, things she could fix, or at least ease. Much simpler than gunshot wounds or amputated limbs or crushed…she shoved the memories away. “I might be able to help, if you want. I’m…I was…I’ve had some medical training.”

Hattie and Marcus both turned to stare at her.

Jemma wasn’t quite sure what had possessed her to offer such a thing, but it was too late to take it back now. Her words hovered in the air between them as Marcus examined her carefully before glancing at Hattie, who nodded. “She’s just moved into the old McCabe place.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Marcus said cautiously. He held out his hand. “Marcus.”

Tamping down on the fear bubbling up inside of her, Jemma gingerly shook his hand. “Jemma, and no, I don’t mind.”  

***

“Are you crazy?” Daisy said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

Deke frowned and shook the paper in his hand. “No? Look, it’s right here.”

Daisy pushed it away impatiently. “Deke, none of this matters anymore. Your version of the future doesn’t exist. It’s a whole new ballgame.” She rubbed her temples as Davis came up the corridor behind her and gave Deke an excited thumbs up. Deke shook his head quickly and Davis stopped in his tracks, frowning. Daisy lifted her head and glared at Deke. “Can you at least pretend you care enough to _try_? They’re your grandparents!”

Davis winced before quietly backing up and disappearing down a connecting corridor.

“I know who they are,” Deke said impatiently. “And I’m telling you, this is what I found out okay? Look.” He thrust the paper at her again. “Here’s the Lighthouse, the future one, anyways, and all the broken earth pieces, but this one’s different, it’s moving around. Robin put it in a bunch of drawings showing the stuff that happened when you guys first got there, and we know that Fitz was there the whole time too, just…thawing out or whatever. I think maybe he was on an asteroid.”

“What?” Daisy hissed, finally looking at the drawing he was holding.

“An asteroid,” Deke repeated, excited now that she seemed to be listening. “You know, a big rock that…” She started looking pained again and he cut himself off. “Right, of course you know that. So, I thought, what if we checked the asteroids passing earth now and see if any are swinging back around in about, say, seventy years or so? It would be a lot easier than trying to stay close enough without being seen for that long, not to mention all the energy it’d save.”

“Deke,” Daisy breathed. “That’s…actually not a bad theory.”

He bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning happily. “Thanks! Hey, do you want to go get dinner? I heard its meatloaf, but you know if you put some that red 57 stuff on it, it’s really not bad.”

“Sorry, Deke, I’ve got to take this to Mack.” She glanced up, smiling, and Deke was pleasantly surprised for about two seconds before he realized she was looking over his shoulder. “Piper! Check this out!” 

Deke frowned as he watched her hurry away, trying to decide if that counted as a real rejection or if she was just busy when Davis peeked out from around the corner. Deke impatiently waved him out.

“How’d it go?” Davis asked.

“Well, I think she was happy about the drawing, but dinner was a no go.”

Davis clapped a hand on Deke’s shoulder. “Maybe I’ll ask Piper later if she can put in a good word for you. They’ve been hanging out a ton.”

“Thanks, man.” Deke was genuinely touched. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered to do something for him without a payment of some kind. “You’re like…a friend or something.”

Davis laughed, and Deke didn’t quite understand what was so amusing, but it’d been a long time since he’d been friends with anyone and he could probably do a lot worse.

***

“Here we are,” Marcus said, opening the door to a tall narrow house crowded in among other tall, narrow houses. A pot of colorful flowers decorated the front step and the door had probably once been red, though it’d faded to more of a pink blush. “Ruthie?” he called, entering the foyer and shrugging out of his jacket. He set the books Hattie had given him on a tiny table crowded with animal figurines. “I’m home!”

A woman with large eyes and a crown of wispy grey hair peeked around the corner. Her gaze landed on Jemma, her brow furrowing.

“Hello,” Jemma said, trying to smile. Marcus held out a hand, and it took her longer than it should have to realize he was waiting for her coat. She hastily unbuttoned it and let him hang it on the last empty hook on the wall next to the door.

“Tea?” Marcus asked.

“Oh, no,” Jemma began, but Marcus had already gone around the corner. She followed him through a small, tidy sitting room crowded with overstuffed furniture into an even smaller kitchen, also quite neat. Ruth was already perched in a chair, her hands folded on the table in front of her.

“This is Jemma, Ruthie,” Marcus said, putting the kettle on. “She’s just moved into the old McCabe place.”

Ruth’s face lit up. “Oh, you know the McCabes?” she asked.

Jemma shook her head, sinking down to sit at the table with Ruth and pulling Fitz’s cardigan tight around her. The sleeves were stretched out from his fidgeting and the collar was pilling, but it was another little piece of him she couldn’t bear to part with.  “No.”

Jemma watched as Marcus took three cups from the shelf above the kettle and carefully measured out the tea from a battered green tin for the other. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he set the sugar on the table and retrieved the cream from the fridge. It was a ritual Jemma hadn’t seen in a long time, and the familiarity of it was comforting.

“Good lads, the McCabes, excepting the one,” Marcus said as he worked. “Ruthie knew the lot of them, she used to be a schoolteacher, you know.”

Ruth made a face. “Jimmy,” she said. “He’s a handful. Are you one of their cousins?”

Jemma shook her head. “Sorry,” she said, not really sure why she was apologizing. “I haven’t been here long. I just…I hadn’t been able to come, before.” She could feel the tears pressing against her eyes, determined not to let them fall.

“Well,” Ruth said, reaching out a hand and patting Jemma’s fingertips. “We’re certainly glad you’re here now.” 


	4. Four

Deke stared out the window at the endless black around him, feeling right at home. Daytime on earth was nice and all, but it sure was freaking bright when you were trying to sleep.

“Hey, want one?” He offered the Twinkie box to Davis, who was slouched next to him in the pilot’s seat, similarly staring out into space. There really wasn’t much to do after they’d programmed the autopilot with the coordinates for the asteroid. Since the earth hadn’t been blown apart, there were a lot fewer things to run into out here.

For the first couple of days after their little band had left earth, everyone had spent a lot of time fussing with things, checking lights and controls and trajectories, then, slowly, they’d realized what Deke had a long, long time ago.

When it wasn’t trying to kill you, space was kinda boring.

The whole trip to wherever Fitz was (or, really, Deke’s best guess as to where Fitz might be) was supposed to take a month, and Deke bet he was the only one who’d brought enough books. Maybe he should start charging dessert rations to borrow them or something. The freeze-dried ice cream was awesome.

 Davis sighed beside him. “Yeah, sure.” He reached over and took out a twinkie, slowly unwrapping it. “You know, I really thought this was going to be a little more…” He gestured out the window at the glittering stars. “I don’t know, _Star Wars_ or something.”

Deke paused mid-chew. “There was a war about stars?”

Davis started laughing. “What? No! The movie, you know with Han and Luke and—oh my god you’ve never seen _Star Wars_ , have you?”

Rolling his eyes, Deke dug out the last Twinkie in the box. “Sure, make fun of the guy from the future because he hasn’t seen all your crappy movies.”

Davis gasped. “Okay, first of all, do not insult _Star Wars_. It’s awesome and you would totally love it. It’s got everything: space battles, cool robots, evil empires, and these laser swords that are all-” Davis made a weird swishing sound and brandished his Twinkie at the windshield.

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

“I just thought getting to be Han would be a lot more exciting, that’s all.” Davis sighed and bit into his twinkie. “He was always flying around and saving the day, not spending two weeks waiting to get to a giant rock.” Davis turned to him, a calculating look on his face. “Guess that makes you Chewy.”

“What?”

“Chewbacca. He was the co-pilot.”

Deke nodded cautiously. “And he was cool, too?”

“Oh, totally,” Davis said. “So, this is what happens…”

***

Everything was going exactly the way Jemma had planned while she’d watched the sun rise, drinking her tea and wrapped in her blanket on her back stoop. It’d been cloudy, so it was more of a gradual lightening of greys than a sudden blast of color, but she hadn’t minded. It had still been beautiful.

She’d missed sharing sunrises with Fitz while they’d been stuck in the Lighthouse. It’d been one of the million tiny, seemingly insignificant things she’d promised herself they’d get to later. After the next project, after the next crisis, after the next problem they were working to solve. She’d never thought they would run out of time.

She rinsed her teacup in the sink and set it aside before shrugging into another of Fitz’s cardigans and running her hand over her belly.

It was her usual day to go to the shops and a few days since she’d offered to help a complete stranger in the library, who’d had taken it quite in stride. During tea, Ruth had launched into a history of Jemma’s cottage while Jemma looked through the myriad of medications Marcus had brought out to show her. It’d taken only a few minutes for her to realize the bruises on Ruth’s arms were likely due to miscalculated dosages, and she’d offered Marcus some advice on how to adjust them.

She’d stayed longer than she meant to, accepting a second cup of tea and listening to Ruth chatter on. Marcus was quieter, and Jemma found her mind inevitably wandering to Fitz, wondering what it might have been like to grow old together. She’d cried just a bit, but they were kind enough not to mention it.

Pausing to lock to the door of the cottage behind her, Jemma tugged on her hat and buttoned her jacket, heading down the long, gradual slope that led to town so she could get her groceries. Trudging down the quiet streets, Jemma hesitated on one of the corners, watching a car speed past.

Maybe she should check on Marcus and Ruth, first. After all, Marcus was clearly out of his depth, and while Ruth seemed to be in good spirits most of the time, she certainly required quite a lot of care. Jemma’s forehead wrinkled with worry.

Turning away from the direction of the shops, Jemma headed towards their house instead. She’d just make sure they were all right, and then she’d get back on schedule.

***

“Okay, guys, we’re getting close, and…what the hell is that noise you’re making?” Daisy said, wrinkling her nose.

“I’m talking in Wookie, obviously,” Deke said.

Daisy dropped her head onto her hand. “Of course. Davis, give me an update.”

“He’s Han,” Deke said, just to keep the conversation alive while Davis got up to check something on the computer monitors. He hadn’t seen Daisy much, even though he’d offered to let her borrow his books for only half a dessert. The rock they were heading toward was getting steadily larger, but anything resembling a spaceship had yet to be spotted. Man, he hoped they hadn’t just committed to a month in space for nothing. “You can be Princess Leia.”

“No, thanks,” Daisy said. “And Davis, I hate to break it to you, but Fitz is way more Han than you are.”

“Hey!” Davis said, turning around and looking insulted. “I’m the pilot!”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Fitz is frozen in space.”

“Am I still Chewy?” Deke frowned.

Daisy lifted her eyebrows. “Yeah, sure, but only because now I can’t wait until you actually watch _Star Wars_.” She paused. “You know, I think I might be more Han than Davis.” 

Piper snorted as she came into the room. “Please, if you’re anyone, you’re Luke.”

Deke laughed, delighted. “Oh man, you totally are! You even have the Force!”

Putting her hands on her hips, Daisy glared at him. “Enough with the movie references. Deke, are you sure this is where we’ll find Fitz?” 

Deke slumped back in his chair, his good mood evaporating. “I’m pretty sure?” he said. “I mean, it made the most sense, after-”

Piper let out a gasp, interrupting him and pointing out the windshield. They all turned, and Deke’s jaw dropped. The hull of a distant ship had become visible as the asteroid slowly rotated on its axis.  Holy crap, he’d been right. Davis owed him so much Zima.

“You were right,” Daisy said, sounding shocked. “I can’t believe it.”

“Is that it? The ship Fitz is on?” Davis asked, peering out the windshield. “Hey, what’s this Enoch guy like?”

“Weird,” Daisy and Deke said at the same time. He grinned at her, but she studiously ignored him.

“Okay,” Daisy said. “I guess we’re here. Now we just have to wake him up.”

No one moved.

“Um,” Piper raised her hand. “Who’s going to tell him about everything that happened?”

“I don’t know,” Daisy said, sounding nervous. “I didn’t really think…god, I wish Jemma was here. He’s going to freak when he finds out we lost her.” She chewed on her lower lip.

“We didn’t really lose her,” Davis protested. “She just kind of disappeared after he died and…yeah, he’s gonna freak out.”

The other ship was drawing closer, it’s hull gleaming dully, barely discernable from the rock it was anchored to.

“Who’s going to wake him up?” Deke asked. Daisy, Piper, and Davis all silently turned to him. “What?” he yipped. “Me? Why me?”

***

The chart had gotten too large for the table. It had frustrated Jemma for a day or so while she flipped through the pages she’d finished, trying to keep everything in order before she realized she was being entirely ridiculous and began to pin them all to the wall.

Fitz would have figured the solution out immediately, she thought wryly, staring at the pieces of the sky on her wall. She reached out and touched an especially promising quadrant. It was so frustrating to not be able to make more than an educated guess as to where he could be, even if she wasn’t sure she was ready to find him. For as long as she searched, he was alive. He was still her other half, her partner, her husband. A father.

Jemma settled a hand on her belly. She really needed to find a doctor at some point. Part of her didn’t want to, the part that worried they’d find something wrong with the baby, that she’d messed up somehow during those weeks she hadn’t realized she was pregnant. But the tiny, growing curve of her stomach seemed to suggest otherwise and she knew she couldn’t put it off for much longer. Doing her own checkups were all well and good, but since none of her degrees were actually in medicine—a distinction Coulson had never seemed to care much about—she supposed she should find a professional.

She just hadn’t imagined having to do it alone.

***

Deke bounced on his heels as Enoch rapidly tapped at the buttons on top of a cryo-pod, its window completely frosted over. “Uh, we’re sure he’s in there, right?” Deke really didn’t want his last memory of his grandpa to be a big pile of dust.

“His vitals all read normally,” Enoch said. “Why?”

Deke’s shoulders slumped in relief. “No reason. That’s great.” Thank god. Now someone else could be in charge of this whole find-Jemma thing and he could get back to…wherever. Vegas again? Maybe it’d been long enough the uniforms wouldn’t be looking for him anymore and he could cash in his tokens.

Deke frowned as the ice slowly began to clear off the glass, showing the tip of a familiar nose. It was a little freaky seeing so much of himself in another person. Like what having a brother might be like, he guessed.

“He’ll need some time to recover,” Enoch said. “I’m pleased to hear the intervention was successful.”

Deke snorted. “If you call that a success.”

“The earth is still whole, is it not?” Enoch asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Deke watched the ice clear enough for him to see Fitz’s expressionless face and he shivered, wondering if that was what the other Fitz had looked like when he’d died. “Yeah,” Deke said quietly, “but a lot of other things got broken.” What if there hadn’t been another Fitz to find? Would his mom never get born? Maybe he should stick around long enough to make sure they found Jemma, too. Fitz had been on ice for months, he was bound to be a little out of it. Deke could totally help. After all, if Fitz was Han, he needed a Chewbacca, right?

The cryo-pod made a hissing noise as the lid released and Enoch nodded at Deke before leaving the room. Deke wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and tried to think of how to introduce himself. ‘Hey, I’m your grandson from the future’ would probably take way too long to explain.

Fitz’s eyelids fluttered, and Deke took a deep breath, attempting to smile as he met his grandpa. Again.

“Who the hell are you?” Fitz asked, his voice raspy. His hands gripped the sides of the cryo-pod and he heaved himself up with surprising agility for a dude who’d just thawed out.

Deke blinked at him, his mouth working. Crap. “Uh, Deke?” he finally said. “I know you’re probably confused, but we’ll fill you in on the way back. You’ve only been frozen for a few months so-” A moment later Deke found himself pinned face first against the wall, his arm twisted behind him by a very angry Fitz. Huh, he hadn’t really expected that. “Ow,” Deke complained. “Hey, I…”

“A few _months_?” Fitz hissed in his ear. “Do you have any idea what you just did? I was supposed to sleep for _years_! Now put me back in this thing, and you better hope to hell it still works, because Jemma is…”

“Missing,” Deke finished, his face mashed uncomfortably against the wall. “I know, but you guys, I mean, Jemma’s back in the present now.”

The pressure on his arm eased. “What?”

Deke took a deep breath and decided to stick with the simplest explanation for the time being. “Everyone’s back, you don’t have to go to the future anymore. We came to bring you home.”

“Oh.” Fitz released his grip and Deke turned around to find Fitz staring at him in confusion. “How…no, wait, who’s we?”

“Uh, Daisy, Piper, Davis and me,” Deke ticked off on his fingers. Fitz’s frown deepened. “Jemma’s back on earth,” he added quickly, trying to head off the question he knew was coming.

A shadow crossed Fitz’s face and he leaned back against the cryo-pod. “Who are you again?”

Deke licked his lips nervously. “Deke?”

“Are you with SHIELD?”

“Not really,” Deke hedged.

Fitz’s brow furrowed. “How do you know Jemma, then?”

Deke hesitated, trying to figure out where to start. “Well, uh, we met when she came to the Lighthouse and no matter what anyone says I was actually super helpful and the thing with Daisy worked out in the long run so I don’t think anyone can really blame me for that and…”

Fitz held up a hand, squeezing his eyes shut. “Stop. I feel like my head’s going to explode as it is, just…just tell me, is she happy?” Fitz looked like he might cry, and Deke really, really wanted to be back on the Zephyr now. He had not been prepared for any crying.

“Happy?”

“With you?” Fitz choked out.

“With…oh my god!” Deke exclaimed, horrified. “She’s not…she’s my grandma!” Fitz just stared at him in confusion. Deke rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, there is way too much for me to explain right now, and we need to get off this ship so we can all go home. Jemma freaking loves you, and I’m your grandson, so stop making this weird.”

“I’m making this weird?” Fitz asked, sounding incredulous. “You just said I’ve only been gone a few months!” 

“Fine, also, I kinda accidentally came back from the future.” Deke motioned impatiently towards the door. “Can we go now?”

“Bloody hell,” Fitz grumbled, taking a step towards the door and catching himself on the edge of the cryo-pod as his nearly fell.

Deke sighed heavily and offered a hand, but Fitz just scowled at him and push himself up unassisted. Deke crossed his arms and headed for the doorway, only to feel Fitz’s hand land rather heavily on his shoulder as they made their way into the corridor. “Got it there, gramps?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Deke smirked, slowing down a little as Fitz struggled to keep up. “You’re welcome for the rescue, by the way.”

“Kind of hoping it’s just a nightmare,” Fitz muttered.

Deke tried to decide what was worse, his grandpa casually offering to murder him for betraying all his friends in the future or his grandpa thinking Deke had run off with his own grandma. Maybe he’d call it a tie. Clearly, this new Fitz was just like the old Fitz, and Deke was doomed to make a terrible first impression. 

“Thank you,” Fitz mumbled grudgingly just before they got to the Zephyr.

Deke barely managed to smother a smile. Okay, fine, maybe starting over wasn’t all bad. When Fitz was up to speed, Deke could mention he was willing to help find Jemma. It’d be kind of nice to see her again, too.


	5. Five

“You lost Jemma?” Fitz said. “Are you serious?”

Daisy rolled her eyes to the ceiling, her nostrils flaring. “Fitz…”

“I told them they should consider trackers,” Deke said smugly. “But someone called them ‘dystopian’ even though it would probably solve like, half of your guys’ problems.” He narrowed his eyes at Piper and she, too, looked heavenward.

By the time Deke had gotten him to the Zephyr, Fitz had barely been able to stay on his feet, and he’d crashed in the bunk Deke directed him to, sleeping for almost an entire day and thankfully giving the rest of them time to come up with a plan.

Unfortunately, things were not going according to plan. 

“Who the hell is this again?” Fitz demanded, gesturing at Deke.

Piper frowned. “Deke said he told you.”

Fitz blinked at her, looking confused.

“And Jemma’s not really lost,” Davis said. “We just, uh, don’t know where she went.” He flinched back at Fitz’s glare. “Sorry?”

“Look,” Daisy said impatiently. “Let me tell you happened and then you can ask questions, okay?” She waited for Fitz’s nod before continuing, taking a deep breath. “We all got sent to the future, but the earth there had been…broken into pieces, and everyone that was left was living in the Lighthouse. We were there because of a time loop that’d been created to stop the earth from being destroyed.”

“A time-” Fitz began, snapping his mouth shut when Daisy narrowed her eyes at him.

“You showed up after being frozen for like a gazillion years—that was totally awesome, by the way—and helped us get back here. Deke somehow got dragged along with us, and then we figured out how to break the time loop and earth wasn’t destroyed.” Daisy paused. “There was some other stuff in there, but that’s the gist of it.”

Fitz had looked progressively more bewildered the further along she went, finally sinking down to sit in a nearby chair.

Deke exchanged glances with Davis, who lifted one shoulder. No one spoke.

“So,” Daisy started again cautiously. “Since we’re not going to end up in the future again, we thought we’d better come get you.”

Fitz looked up, his brow furrowed. “You changed the future,” he repeated. “But that’s impossible.”

Daisy shrugged. “Don’t ask me how it worked. You’re the one who figured it out.” Her voice softened. “You and Jemma.”

Fitz scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay. So…so, what you’re saying is, we’ve stopped looping, which means I don’t have to get to the future because we’ve already come back from there and fixed things.” He slumped back in his chair. “Which also means I’m already here.”  

Everyone collectively winced.

Deke started to edge away. When they’d contacted the Lighthouse to let them know they’d found Fitz, Mack had told them under no uncertain terms that they were to give Fitz the full rundown, holding nothing back. “Fitz lived those weeks with us,” Mack had said in his new, stern, Director voice. “Tell him whatever he wants to know.”  But Deke sure as hell didn’t want to be the one who delivered the news.

“Um,” Daisy said into the silence. “You sort of…died.”

Fitz stared at her blankly. “Died?”

Daisy nodded, dropping her eyes to the floor.

“You know what?” Piper said. “Davis and I are going to check the…um, plane. We’re glad to have you back, Fitz.” She grabbed Davis’s sleeve and dragged him towards the front of the Zephyr.

“This is insane.” Fitz rubbed a temple. “Once, just once, can something not completely horrible happen to us?”  He slammed his fist down on the armrest of the chair he was sitting in and Daisy stepped back, crossing her arms defensively. Fitz’s eyes widened. “What else did I do?” he whispered.

Daisy shook her head. “You saved us,” she said. “There was…there was some bad stuff, too, but you saved us. Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t you.”

Fitz dropped his head onto his hands. “Daisy,” he said, sounding exhausted. “It was me. Just because I don’t remember, or was in the Framework, or,” he gestured at the plane, “frozen in space. It was me.”

“Maybe that’s why you died,” Deke blurted out before he could stop himself. Daisy and Fitz both turned to look at him. “Uh, because otherwise there’d be two of you, and there can only be one.”

“Was that a joke?” Fitz asked in disbelief.

“Huh?”

“No, he didn’t mean…he’s just Deke,” Daisy said, sighing.

Fitz’s eyes cut to Daisy. “Please tell me we’re not actually related.”

“Sorry.” Daisy shrugged.

“Hey, you got married,” Deke volunteered. “That was a not-horrible thing. You both seemed pretty happy about it, I mean.”

“Deke!” Daisy hissed.

Fitz’s eyes were suddenly watery again, Deke noticed with alarm. “I got…to Jemma?” Fitz asked.

“Who else are you going to marry, dude?” Deke put his hands on his hips, feeling vaguely offended on his grandma’s behalf.

“What happened to Jemma?” Fitz asked quietly, staring at his hands. All the fight seemed to have gone out of him.

Daisy pursed her lips. “We don’t know,” she finally replied. “After you died, she kinda…she didn’t say much, but she’s the one who realized you were out here, Fitz. She was trying to find you, it was the only thing she worked on before she went home.”

Lifting his head, Fitz looked at Daisy, confused. “Home?”

“To Devon, I guess?” Daisy said. “That’s where we took her, anyways, but her phone went dark in London.”

“Her phone-” Fitz started, sounding alarmed.

Shaking her head, Daisy interrupted him. “She’d taken the card out of it. She knows how we work. I don’t know why she left before she figured out where you were, but she must have had a really good reason. She was…I’d never seen her like that, Fitz. It was bad.”

“Then how did you find me?”

“Deke,” Daisy sighed. Fitz’s eyebrows lifted. “I know, we’re all as surprised as you are.”

“Hey!” Deke said. “You asked for my help, remember?”

Fitz’s eyebrows went even higher. “We were desperate,” Daisy said.

Deke rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So.” He plopped down in a chair next to Fitz. “Where do we start?”

“Start what?” Fitz asked.

“Looking for Jemma,” Deke reminded him. “London, huh? Is it like Vegas? Vegas was awesome. They have thousands of these crazy, light-up machines, right? And people just stuff tokens in them all day long even though the odds are freaking terrible and no one hardly ever wins anything and…”

“Uh,” Fitz said. “I don’t remember inviting you along.”

“That’s cool.” Deke patted Fitz’s shoulder. “I’ll totally help anyway.”

***

The paper covering the table was loud when Jemma shifted, trying to find a comfortable place on the thin pillow under her head.

The doctor glanced up and gave her a kind smile. “Just need to find the right spot,” he assured her, sliding the transducer over the curve of her belly. The gel made her skin shiny and sticky, and it wasn’t warming up the way she’d hoped it would. She stared at the plain white ceiling overhead, trying to keep her nerves under control.

If the doctor had been surprised that she’d brought her own meticulously recorded notes about her weight, blood pressure, and dietary habits, he hadn’t shown it, which she’d found reassuring. She also noticed that despite the other name on the clinic’s front door, she’d only been offered an appointment with him and the waiting room wasn’t particularly full.

So many people had been lost recently. It was hard to remember sometimes that her grief was just one piece of a collective pain they all shared.

“There we are,” the doctor said, glancing up at her. A faint, rapid thumping reached her ears and Jemma closed her eyes in relief, feeling tears leak out from under her eyelids. “Have you felt the baby move?” the doctor asked softly. Jemma shook her head, trying to hold back a sob. “You should soon.” He slid the device up higher on her belly and the sound faded until she could barely hear it at all. Jemma resisted demanding he move it back and concentrated on not entirely falling apart until she was back at the cottage.

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, trying to memorize the exact rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. The tiny tempo inside of her that measured out the time that’d passed since Fitz had been gone.

***

Deke wandered out of his room, initially intent on finding Davis so he could ask him about the talking and walking tree that was in the book he was reading, wondering if it was based on some real, freaky species no one had bothered to tell him about, when he stopped short, hearing Fitz’s voice.

It’d been over a week since they’d started back home, and he’d barely seen Fitz leave his room except to grab some chow. He’d heard Fitz quizzing Daisy a couple of times about what he’d missed, and there’d been an uncomfortable conversation he’d almost interrupted about Mack not being able to reach Fitz’s mom, which Deke had managed to avoid by ducking into a storage closet, but mostly Fitz seemed pretty intent on figuring out where Jemma had gone.

Tucking himself up against the wall, Deke slowed his breathing and concentrated on listening. Eavesdropping was something he was good at. All it required was patience, a good memory, and the willingness to exploit whatever you learned. Deke winced. Not that he was going to blackmail his grandpa. This whole being a good guy shtick took some getting used to.

The deep voice coming through the comms was his first clue, and really the only one he needed.

“…should probably ask Daisy about this,” Mack said.

“I did,” Fitz said wearily. “She just keeps telling me not to worry about it. Mack, what the hell happened? What did I do? Did I…was Jemma hurt somehow? Is that why she left?”

Deke frowned, listening as Mack let out a sigh. “Look, Fitz, you made some damned questionable decisions, but I can tell you for sure Jemma never once lost faith in you. Even…” Deke had to strain to hear as Mack lowered his voice. “Even after we had to lock you up for a while.”

“What the hell did I do?” Fitz asked, sounding exasperated.

“It wasn’t you,” Mack said. “It was just…you removed Daisy’s inhibitor—some alien thing they inserted into her brain to turn off her powers in the future—and it freaked everyone the hell out, including you.”

“I…what?” Fitz asked. “How the hell would I know how to…the Doctor,” he breathed.

“Yeah.” Deke could just imagine how uncomfortable Mack looked just then. “Not really something any of us expected to see again. Or wanted to see again, but that’s something for you to work out. It’s done now though, just give Daisy some time.” There was a short pause. “You still helped us stop the end of the world.”

“By dying,” Fitz said glumly. “Maybe Jemma was right not to come find me.”

Deke furrowed his brow, swallowing a protest. That wasn’t good. No Jemma and Fitz meant his mother didn’t get born, and without his mom, he didn’t…he looked down at himself. Uh, well, past-him didn’t get born. Maybe. He wasn’t quite sure how that worked since everything had changed, but he did know his mom totally deserved to grow up on a not-cracked-apart world.

“Hey,” Mack said, his voice stronger. “I don’t know why Jemma disappeared, Fitz, but watching her try and hold it together after I told her what’d happened to you was one of the worst moments of my life, and I am not doing that again. At least let her know you’re alright. You gave us a hell of a scare. We were all thinking the worst might have happened after that whole alien dusting event. Daisy told you about that?”

“Yeah,” Fitz said quietly. “Some earth-saving I did.”

“At least we’ve still got an earth,” Mack said. “And we’re glad to have you back, too. Daisy said she’s dropping you guys in London?”

“That’s the plan,” Fitz replied. “Me and Deke, apparently. And what the hell possessed any child of mine to name her kid Deke of all bloody things?”

Deke straightened up and put his hands on his hips, insulted. This from a man named _Leopold_. Whatever. He rolled his eyes and decided he’d go hunt down Davis, the conversation was clearly winding down.

Mack chuckled. “I think the universe had to compensate for the combined genius of Fitzsimmons somehow.” There was a pause. “Tell Jemma we miss her,” he said gently. “And good luck.”

***

Jemma frowned at the wall, making another notation and adjusting the trajectory she’d been calculating from one of the two dozen most likely spots to launch a spacecraft from, her hand absently stroking her belly. She’d done all this math in the lab before she’d left, but sometimes the best way to tackle a problem was the start at the beginning and see where it took you.

So far, it had taken her nowhere, except to the shops for larger sheets of paper.

“What do you think?” she asked the baby. “They could conceivably set up a geosynchronous orbit, but with no earth they’d have to choose something else in this solar system. The only problem would be remaining undetected for seventy-odd years. Which might not have been a problem if the ship they were on had some kind of cloaking mechanism, but I don’t know anything about that, either.”    

Frustrated, Jemma clenched her fist around the pen in her hand. This was an utterly useless exercise if Fitz wasn’t even out there to find, but she couldn’t seem to stop poking at the problem anyway. One entire wall was covered in her charts, and she’d had to start using different color pens to layer more information over what she’d started with.

She took a step back, looking at the swirl of dots and lines and calculations she’d created, and sighed heavily. Anyone who saw this was going to assume she was absolutely mad. It was a good thing she didn’t get any visitors.

A knock at the door made her jump, the pen in her hand clattering to the floor.

Cautiously, Jemma went to peer out the front window, only to see Marcus standing on the stoop with a cardboard box in his arms. She unlocked the front door and opened it, trying to hide her surprise. “Is everything alright?” she blurted, instead of greeting him like a normal person. She could feel her panic rising. “Is Ruth…?”

“Morning, Jemma,” Marcus said, smiling nervously. He hefted the box in his arms. “Ruthie’s fine, thanks. I know she’d love to see you come ‘round again soon.”

Jemma sagged against the doorframe, trying to calm her racing heart. “Oh, good. That’s…that’s good.” Marcus nodded, and she realized she was being incredibly rude. “Um, would you like to…” Jemma hesitated, remembering the star chart behind her, but Marcus was already shaking his head.

“Can’t stay, thanks. I’m just dropping this off. Some folks had a few things we thought you could use. You know, for the baby.” He nodded at her gently protruding stomach and set the box on the stoop.

Jemma stared at him, and then the box, completely at a loss. She tried to find the words to thank him, though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get them out around the lump in her throat. “I…”

Marcus gave her a wave and headed back down the hill before she’d recovered, and she watched him for a long minute before returning her gaze to the box at her feet.

She’d just wanted a place to hide, a place where she could properly mourn the loss of the life she’d wanted, the life she’d planned with Fitz. A place that was far from the possibility of dimensional rifts or rocks that were actually portals, or giant alien spacecraft. Somewhere safe for the baby. A place Fitz would have liked if he could be there with them.

She’d never expected it to feel like home.

***

Deke stared up at the list of trains and times, his mouth hanging open as the information updated.

“All of these are going somewhere different?” he asked in awe. “How big is this place? Like as big as Vegas?”

Fitz looked up from the tablet he’d been poking at, frowning. “London is much bigger than Las Vegas,” he said before returning his attention to the screen in his hands.

Deke spun in a circle, taking in the soaring ceilings and the people hurrying by like they had no idea they could have been living in some cramped, dark warren of hallways for the rest of their lives. “This place is amazing,” he said. “What’s it called again?”

“King’s Cross,” Fitz replied absently. “And stop that, you look like a tourist.”

“Cool,” Deke said, beaming. “Hey, are we going on one of the trains?” He tried not to sound too nervous about it, but seriously, what was up with these people and things that went really fast and were stuck on things like tracks or roads?

“I don’t know,” Fitz said, sighing. “Christ.” He scowled at the tablet. “This is bloody useless.” He glared up at the train times like they were somehow to blame, and Deke tried to look serious when Fitz turned in his direction, even though he had like a million questions about London and trains and why so many people were wearing hats that didn’t even look like they kept their heads warm.

“Uh, what now?” Deke asked.

Daisy and everyone had dropped them off a couple of hours ago and, after a ridiculously scary ride in one of those stupid cabs to this place, Fitz was looking even more dejected than when they’d started. Deke was starting to wonder if Jemma was the only person in the world who made Fitz smile.

Fitz rubbed a hand over his face. “I need to think,” he said. “There are too many variables and Daisy was right, the whole damn surveillance system was wiped clean. Jemma must have set off an EMP.” Fitz started walking and Deke hurried to catch up.

“Great. Where are we going?”

“To get a pint.”

“Awesome!” Deke fumbled for his sunglasses as they went outside. It wasn’t as bright as Las Vegas, but still way brighter than he was used to. “What’s a pint?”

Fitz shot him a disbelieving look. “What the hell kind of future world were you living in?”

“Totally not a good one,” Deke assured him as Fitz opened the door to a place that looked pretty familiar. “Oh, hey, a bar, I love these.”

“Pub,” Fitz corrected, grumbling something under his breath about Americans and, Deke was almost sure, forbidding marriages.

Rolling his eyes, Deke followed his grandpa into the ba—pub and settled onto a barstool next to him. The place was mostly deserted, and Deke was so busy checking to see if they had video games (another thing he really liked about not-cracked-apart earth) he missed Fitz ordering for him until the glass was in front of him.

Deke picked up the beer, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Ugh, this one was so dark he couldn’t even see through it, why did people drink this stuff? “Um, actually, do you have Zima?” he asked hopefully.

The bartender looked at him askance and then glanced at Fitz, who’d dropped his head on his hand. “Zima?” Fitz hissed as the bartender walked away, shaking his head. “Where the hell did you even…no, don’t answer, I don’t want to know. You’re having a proper pint,” he said firmly. “Drink up.”

Deke picked up the glass, watching Fitz out of the corner of his eye, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying whatever kind of beer this was and taking a cautious sip. He almost gagged, swallowing quickly and setting the glass down pushing it away from him. “Oh my god, why do people drink this!”

The corners of Fitz’s mouth turned up slightly, and Deke was so surprised for a second he forgot how gross beer was and lifted his glass for another sip. This time he managed to swallow without too much fuss, but it still tasted like dirty laundry smelled. “You’ll get the hang of it,” Fitz said, pulling something up on the tablet.

Deke was pretty sure Fitz was starting to kind of not mind having him around, so he decided to brave his dumb pint, even though it’d probably take him all night to finish. “So,” Deke ventured after another minute and two more swallows of the vile stuff. His head was starting to get pleasantly swimmy, like he felt after a couple of Zima’s, so that was nice. “Are we figuring out where Jemma went from here?”

“That’s the plan,” Fitz said. “Problem is, she could have gone practically anywhere from this point and she managed to knock out the cameras during rush hour. Daisy ran facial recognition at all the stations the trains go to from here and came up empty, and I’ve just been covering the same ground over and over hoping something will leap out at me, but I’m running out of ideas.”

He slumped over the bar and Deke blinked for a second, stunned. That might be the longest thing Fitz had ever said to him that didn’t include an insult. “Uh,” Deke cast around for a reply. “Wow, she really didn’t want to be found,” he said, then winced and took another drink. After half a glass, it really wasn’t so bad. It must have killed all his taste buds. 

Fitz lifted a hand and two more beers magically appeared in front of them. Deke wondered if this counted as torture before resignedly lifting his glass to his lips again. “Yeah,” Fitz said, hunching over the bar and cradling his beer between his hands. “I can’t say I really blame her. She’s probably better off, honestly. After everything I put her though, having the damn Doctor pop up had to have been the last straw.”

Deke frowned. “Uh,” he started cautiously. “I don’t know the whole story, because no one ever tells me anything and you knocked me out, which really freaking hurt, by the way, but I do know that nothing would have changed if you hadn’t gone all scary doctor-guy and pulled that thing out of Daisy.”

“Still doesn’t excuse what I did,” Fitz mumbled, staring at the scarred wooden bartop.

Deke lifted his eyebrows. “Keeping everything from getting sucked into another dimension and ending the world is kind of the mother of all excuses. Besides, it’s not like anyone else had any ideas.”

Fitz scowled at his beer. “Yeah, and all I had to do was let out the evil I have inside me. That’s great.” 

Deke drained his first beer and slammed the empty glass on the bar. “You know what? Who cares.” He picked up his second beer and took a sip. Huh, maybe this was a different one. It wasn’t half bad. More like wet cardboard than dirty laundry. “So what if you had to go all ‘evil’ or whatever.” Deke rolled his eyes. “There’s no such thing as a totally good person.” He paused. “Maybe except for my mom.”

“And Jemma,” Fitz corrected.

“Dude, I heard she sliced up Kasius—he was this alien guy in the future—and it was pretty epic.”

“Jemma did that?” Fitz looked at him, startled.

Deke shrugged. “He didn’t die, but that doesn’t really matter, the future’s different now because of the things you guys did.” He dragged a finger through the condensation rings his beer left on the counter. “Sometimes people get really mad about the choices you make, but what if it was just the least sucky option out of a bunch of really sucky options, you know? Being a good guy isn’t always possible when you’re trying to survive.”

Fitz was staring at him now with an odd expression on his face. Deke rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Uh, anyway, it wasn’t like Jemma didn’t know all that about you already, right? And you guys still got married.” Deke took another deep drink of his beer and smiled a little. “My mom used to tell me this story when I couldn’t sleep that she said her mom used to tell her.” He lifted his head. “That’s Jemma.”

Fitz nodded slowly. He was still staring Deke like he was trying to work out one of his enormous, confusing math problems, and Deke knew he was rambling, even for him, but his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

“About this place we were going to live, with green hills and lakes, and if you got up high enough you could see for miles in every direction. She always made it sound so…but it was just a dumb story, because nothing was green anymore, except down in the harvesting room, but it was still nice to imagine we’d get there somehow.” Deke stared at the foam clinging to the side of his glass. His beer was almost gone, but he didn’t remember drinking it. “She’d be really glad to know the earth didn’t crack apart,” he said, blinking back tears.

“Lochs,” Fitz breathed.

“What?” Deke squinted in Fitz’s direction.

His hand clamped onto Deke’s shoulder. “They’re lochs. I know where Jemma is.”


	6. Six

The cardboard box Marcus had brought her sat in the corner of Jemma’s sitting room for almost a week before she felt brave enough to open it. She’d just begun overlaying a new series of coordinates and trajectories onto the star chart in her living room, using violet—she’d always preferred the classic ROYGBIV spectrum—and some hopeful patterns were starting to emerge. She had no idea what she was going to do about them, but perhaps someday…

Jemma touched one particularly promising quadrant, a rainbow’s worth of colors intersecting in a decidedly small area, then her growing belly. It wasn’t too noticeable as long as she was wearing one of Fitz’s cardigans, but it wouldn’t be long before the baby made itself known to everyone.

She still woke up most mornings and reached out, expecting to find someone who wasn’t there, but it was getting a little easier to redirect her hand to her stomach instead, concentrating on what they’d made together. She’d never get used to not having Fitz beside her, nor did she imagine she’d ever stop missing him, but there was some comfort in knowing he wasn’t entirely gone. 

Jemma pulled the box to the center of the room and opened the flaps, only to find herself staring down at a pile of colorful fabric. She put a hand over her mouth and successfully fought back a bout of tears before pulling out what looked like a handknit blanket done in alternating colors of blue and green and yellow. The yarn was soft under her hands and Jemma carefully folded it before setting it aside and reaching for the next item.

She found a stack of tiny onesies next, in all different colors, the clothing hardly big enough for one of her childhood dolls. She found it very hard to believe anyone could start out so small. She dug through a pile of soft, stretchy leggings and itty-bitty pairs of socks before her hands found what she thought might be another beautiful blanket until she pulled it out.

Jemma straightened up, bracing herself against the wall, and tried to remember how to breathe as she clutched the tiny cardigan in her hands. The yarn was bulky but soft, and the buttons sturdy, and it was exactly what she imagined Fitz would have picked out for the baby if he’d been there.

A laugh that was half sob escaped her as she clutched the sweater to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to ward off the wave of grief threatening to overwhelm her. She hated that Fitz wasn’t here for this, that after everything they’d been through he’d never had a chance to enjoy the world they’d been working so hard to save.

She’d told him more than once she never wanted to live without him, and it was still the truest thing she’d ever said, but she hadn’t imagined she wouldn’t have a choice. Splaying a hand over her belly, she sank down to sit on the couch, carefully spreading the tiny cardigan over her knees. A faint flutter from somewhere under her hand startled her, and she stared down at her stomach. “I miss him too,” she whispered.

***

“I thought you said you knew where she was?” Deke grumbled as they trudged down another street made out of bumpy rocks. Seriously, regular roads were bad enough, why would anyone make them worse? A car went by at a much faster speed than Deke really thought was necessary and he watched it warily until it rounded a corner, waiting for it to crash into something.

“I know the general area,” Fitz explained, sounded exasperated. “But it’s not like I’ve got an exact address.”

Deke stared out at the hills in the distance. Fitz had explained, during an agonizingly long train journey that had set Deke’s teeth on edge, that Jemma was clearly in Scotland. That meant nothing to Deke, but from the way Fitz’s voice softened, it obviously meant something to him. They’d ended up in a smaller London—except Deke had learned really quick he shouldn’t call it that—and begun the tedious task of asking pretty much everyone they met if they’d seen Jemma.

The towns they visited had gotten progressively smaller until Fitz had started calling them villages, and Deke had slowly begun to appreciate the constant hint of rain in the air and the overcast skies. Fitz claimed the weather wasn’t always this way, but Deke kind of enjoyed walking around without having to squint at everything from behind a pair of sunglasses. Vegas hadn’t been nearly this accommodating. The only weird part was how everyone sounded a lot like Fitz, which Deke had always thought was just a Fitz thing.

“Hey,” Deke said. Fitz lifted his head from where he’d been staring at his phone, a crease between his brows. “You know, when I was in Vegas I saw this thing on TV—did you there are like a thousand channels?—and I thought it was a joke or something but, um, there was this guy, right? And he was doing this crazy stuff, like…”

“Stop,” Fitz said, holding out a hand. “Please, I’m begging you, do not tell me about the pay-per-view movies you were watching in Vegas.” 

“What?” Deke frowned. “Oh, dude, those were weird too, but this guy was just, like, living in the woods. Like those.” He nodded at the tree-covered hills. “And he kept talking about these huge monsters, like dogs but bigger, with round heads full of sharp teeth and totally covered in fur. I think he was hunting them or something?” He put his hands on his hips and squinted suspiciously at the nearest tree line. “How do they hide if they’re that big? Do they live around here?”

Fitz had wrinkled up his nose. “Like a sasquatch? Those aren’t real, Deke. And neither is the Loch Ness Monster, just to head off that question later.”

 Deke shook his head. “No, he called them like…bars.” He drawled the last word, trying to say it the same way he’d heard it on the TV.

“Bears?” Fitz said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re asking me if bears are real. And in Scotland.”

“Oh good, they’re not?” Deke’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Awesome. The bugs are creepy enough.”

“Bears are real,” Fitz said, returning his eyes to his phone.

“They’re real?” Deke squeaked.

Deke would swear for a second that Fitz almost laughed. “There aren’t any around here, though, not anymore.” They turned down a narrow alleyway and Fitz stopped in front of the first shop on the corner, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Let’s start here.” He opened the door and Deke shot one last dark look at the woods on the horizon before heading inside.

Time to work on finding Jemma again. Deke pulled his own phone out, pausing to read a text from Davis, who was complaining about Piper and Daisy ganging up on him about where to go out to eat after a mission, before pulling up the pictures of Jemma that Fitz had sent him. Some of the photos were of both of them, and those ones kind of made Deke’s chest ache in a weird way, seeing his grandparents so happy before all the terrible future-stuff had happened. Long before he’d ever been born. Before the future he knew had been wiped out. He used to wonder what it might have been like to grow up on earth like some of the elders used to talk about, their stories making him long to see places he could barely imagine.

They’d forgotten to mention the bears though. That seemed like a major oversight.

“You know Jemma?” a voice asked curiously over Deke’s shoulder. He spun around, startled, to face an old man, his hair pure white and his face a map of wrinkles. The man’s shoulders were slightly stooped, but he was still taller than Deke, and the frown on his face made Deke stand up straighter.

“Yeah,” Deke replied. “Wait, _you_ know Jemma?”

Fitz materialized at his side a moment later, and Deke could practically feel the tension rolling off him. “Jemma’s here? Where is she?”

The old man’s stern gaze softened. “Aye, she’s here.”

Fitz’s face was strangely blank. “Where is she?” he repeated hoarsely.

The old man tipped his head to one side, considering them before replying. Deke darted his eyes nervously to Fitz, who just stared steadily back at the old man. “Come on, then.” The old man turned, heading for the front door. “Name’s Marcus.”

Fitz was silent as they followed the old man up the street. “Uh, Deke,” Deke volunteered. “He’s Fitz. Sorry, we’ve just been…looking for her for a while.”

“Didn’t think she had any family left,” Marcus said, trudging slowly up a hill away from the shops.

“Well, she does,” Deke said, glancing back. Fitz didn’t seem to be listening, his face paler than Deke had ever seen it. They walked in silence for a few minutes, and while Marcus was clearly curious, he didn’t ask any more questions. Deke was bursting with them, but he valiantly tried to follow the old man’s example. Fitz was staring at the stones under their feet, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. The last time Deke had seen him look that nervous was right before his wedding.

Marcus headed up the front walk of a small cottage made of stone with its door painted black. There was a small front stoop that the old man stood on to knock, glancing over his shoulder at Fitz. “Your friend alright?” he asked Deke.

“He will be,” Deke said confidently. Anticipation coiled inside of him. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He’d found frozen-in-space Fitz, woken him up, and helped find Jemma again. It felt kind of…neat.  

The door opened, and Deke held his breath as Jemma took him in, her eyes widening. She looked like she’d been crying. She was wrapped up in an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back and her face almost as white as Fitz’s. She was smaller than he remembered.

“Deke?” she asked sounding bewildered. Her gaze flicked to Marcus.

“Um, hey, Na-Jemma,” Deke said, rocking back on his heels.

“Found these two lurking about looking for you,” Marcus said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “You know them?”

Jemma stared past Marcus’s shoulder, and Deke could see the exact moment she caught sight of Fitz, her eyes sparking back to life in a way that he hadn’t even realized was missing. “Fitz?” she asked. Her hand came up to clutch the doorframe as a tear slid down her cheek.

“Careful now,” Marcus said gently, catching Jemma’s elbow as she wobbled slightly and guiding her into the house. Deke turned, but Fitz was already rushing past him and heading inside as well, his gaze fastened on Jemma.

“Awesome job, Deke,” Deke said to the empty air before following them all inside.

Marcus was glancing between Jemma and Fitz, his brow more wrinkled than Deke remembered. Jemma was still silently crying while Fitz gazed at her and Deke wouldn’t put it past them to be having an entire conversation telepathically. One wall of the living room was wallpapered in familiar scribbles of all different colors, just like the notes Jemma had left at the Lighthouse. He still had no idea what he was looking at, but he suspected Fitz probably did.

Jemma reached out and touched Fitz’s cheek. “Is it really you?”

Deke shifted uncomfortably and turned to the old man. “Uh, so, is there a bar around here? Or a pub, I mean?”

Marcus looked relieved. “I’ll show you the way.”

“Perfect.” Deke started to open his mouth, but he was pretty sure neither Fitz nor Jemma was paying any attention to him anymore. “I’ll buy you a Zima,” he said instead, following Marcus out of the house.

***

Jemma could feel the rough scratch of Fitz’s stubble under her hand, but she still couldn’t quite believe he was standing in her living room. What if she was dreaming?

“Jemma,” he whispered, cradling her face in his hands and resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, unable to stop her tears. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to…”

“You’re alright,” he said, sounding relieved. She slid her arms around his shoulders as he closed the distance between them and kissed her, his touch as gentle as hers was desperate. She fisted her hands into his jacket and deepened the kiss, wanting to taste him, to prove he was really there.

“Fitz,” she murmured between kisses, her fingers tracing the familiar lines of his face and sliding into his hair. “How are you here?”

He pulled back slightly, and she moved one hand down to press against his chest, reveling in the solid feel of him. He took a deep breath and lifted one shoulder. “Deke.”

Jemma blinked, startled. “Really? I mean, that’s…” She glanced at her star chart. “He did?”

Fitz followed her gaze, his eyes softening. “You were looking.”

“Of course I was looking,” Jemma said, her insides twisting at the surprise in his voice. “I just…I can’t believe you’re here,” she said again, clutching his jacket tightly. “I didn’t…I was so afraid…”

“I know,” Fitz said, stroking her hair. “It’s alright. They told me what I did. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Fitz,” she said, wiping irritably at her tears. “No, it wasn’t because of you.” Fitz caught her hand, linking their fingers together and lifting them so he could examine the rings on her fingers. Jemma’s breath caught in her throat. “We…”

“Deke told me,” Fitz whispered. He rubbed the metal band encircling her thumb. “This was mine?”

“It is yours,” Jemma said fiercely. “I mean, if you…god, I’m a mess, I’m sorry.” She tried to laugh but it came out as more of a whimper. “There’s more.”

A shadow crossed Fitz’s face, and she watched him brace himself even as she shook her head. “No, no, Fitz, nothing bad. I don’t think.” She attempted a smile and brushed her free hand across his cheek. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

His nod was slower in coming than she would have liked, but she couldn’t blame him for that. All he knew was she hadn’t come to find him when he’d needed to be found. That she’d abandoned him. She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She hadn’t abandoned him, she’d made a choice to protect their child, and she wasn’t going to ever regret that. Opening her eyes again, she saw him cautiously waiting.

“Well, I do,” she said firmly. She tugged their linked hands down, sliding them under the cardigan she was wearing and gently pressing against the swell of her belly. “But there was someone else to consider.”

Fitz’s eyes went wide, his lips parting as he settled his palm against the curve of her stomach. “Jemma,” he breathed.

She watched his face intently, having imagined this moment so many times without ever thinking she’d get to experience it. His eyes caught hers and the love shining there made it hard to breathe. This time, her smile came easily. “I felt the baby move today,” she whispered, hardly able to believe he was there to hear her words instead of just an empty room.

Fitz had both hands on her belly now, his palms nearly covering the entire bump. Jemma shrugged out of her cardigan, watching in fascination as Fitz sank to his knees in front of her, his hands smoothing down her loose t-shirt. He glanced up at her, his fingertips sliding under her shirt hem. “Can I?” She nodded, pulling the material up to expose her belly. He touched her so reverently it sent shivers up her spine, even while heat pooled between her legs. Suddenly, he frowned. “The others were in space for a month,” he said. “You wouldn’t have been able to come.”

Jemma’s smile dimmed, and she covered his hands with her own. “I knew it wouldn’t be a short trip.”

“Did I know?” Fitz asked, looking up at her. She ran a hand through his unruly hair and shook her head, trying not to let any more tears fall.

“I found out after you…after.” It was so hard, still mourning him and yet seeing him in front of her. Her heart was pounding, and she wanted to hang onto him and make him promise never to leave her sight. Here was everything she’d wanted, but now she had twice as much to lose.

Fitz leaned in and carefully pressed a kiss to her belly before lowering her shirt and climbing to his feet. He pulled her close, one arm sliding around her waist and a hand cupping her cheek, drawing her in for another kiss, this one tender and possessive all at once, his teeth nipping at her lower lip and his tongue sliding into her mouth. Jemma pushed his jacket off his shoulders impatiently, finally hearing it hit the floor, and guided him back with her until she bumped into the couch. “I missed you so much,” she whispered. “So much.”

He let her tug him down onto the couch with her, though he kept his distance until she wiggled so he could lay beside her instead of on top of her where she wanted him. She wanted to feel his weight pressing her down, holding her in place, but she contented herself with wrapping a leg around his hip while his hand crept up under her shirt, pausing to stroke her belly. “What did it feel like? The baby?” he asked.

Jemma paused, trying to imagine the little movements she’d felt earlier. She slid her hand along his jaw, turning his head slightly so she could reach the sensitive spot just under his ear. She took a breath and positioned her lips just millimeters from his skin, gently blowing out a breath while his fingers drew patterns on her stomach. She watched his chest rise and fall before nestling her nose against his throat. “I wanted to share this with you so badly.”

He reached up and curled a hand into her hair, pulling her close. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, still barely able to believe he was there with her. She was so afraid she was going to wake up and find out this was a dream. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I had been there, Jemma, even though...” His grip on her tightened. “Are you sure I should be here now?”

Frowning, Jemma picked up her head so she could see his face. “What?”

“Mack told me what I did to Daisy, and after what happened in the Framework and everything, I just…maybe, you were right not to go looking for me. Maybe it’s better for both of you if I don’t stay.” His voice broke but he sounded deadly serious.

Jemma sat up and glared at him. “You listen to me, Leopold Fitz.” She poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare go anywhere, not ever, do you understand? I can’t…losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I would have spent decades searching for you if I had to. I would always choose you, if I’d been able to, if I hadn’t had to decide between chasing after the you who might be dust or protecting the last, most wonderful thing we’d ever made together.” Jemma took a breath, trying to rein in her fear. “Please, don’t leave us again.”

Reaching up, Fitz brushed the back of his hand against her wet cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“We were doing the best we could under the worst of circumstances,” Jemma said, her tone softening. “I’m just sorry I didn’t realize how much you were struggling.” She moved her hand up until it was resting just over his heart. “You’re a good man, Fitz, and my life would be—and was—much poorer without you in it. We’ll figure it out together like we always do.”

He settled his hand over hers, tracing the curve of his wedding band. “At least I did one thing right,” he said. “You’ll have to tell me about all the other things I missed.”

Jemma’s lips quirked up as she slowly began to push his shirt up, her fingers itching to explore the skin she exposed. “How about I show you?”


	7. Seven

Jemma blinked her eyes open. She reached out beside her and encountered a leg. She smiled into her pillow and Fitz slid a hand through her hair as she wiggled close enough to lay her head on his thigh. He was propped up against the headboard, a book in one hand and a mug on the table beside him.

“What are you reading?” she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

“Baby book,” Fitz said, continuing to stroke her hair. “Not sure I want to know this much about the human body, honestly.”

“Engineers,” Jemma huffed.

She loved waking up to find Fitz next to her, where he belonged. The first few nights they’d spent together he’d gotten up much earlier than her, as usual, and made himself tea before wondering off to whatever part of the house he’d decided needed babyproofing that day. Jemma kept waking up alone and quietly panicking, wandering from room to room until she’d found him. By the end of the first week, Fitz had seemed to realize what was going on, or maybe he’d just gotten tired of her stealing his tea, and now he spent his mornings reading in their bed until she’d woken up. It was just as nice as she’d imagined during those months she’d been alone.

“Daisy’s coming today,” he said, wrapping a strand of Jemma’s hair around his finger. “With Piper and Davis.”

“I remember,” Jemma yawned. “Since you’ve been counting down the days until Deke stops sleeping on the couch.”

“If we gave him a room he’d never leave,” Fitz said darkly. “Besides, we need them all.”

Jemma sighed. “The baby doesn’t need a room yet, Fitz, and I still have no idea why you’ve given us separate workspaces when you know full well we only need one.”

“I’m going to make it one room, they’re too small right now. I just have to work out the best way to do it. We need a new ventilation system for your experiments anyway, might as well knock out a wall at the same time.” There was a short pause. “Did you know about Daisy and Piper?” he asked curiously.

Jemma shrugged. “No, but I wasn’t really in the best place to notice those kinds of things before I left.”

The hand stroking her hair paused and Jemma moved her head back to her pillow as Fitz slid down beside her. She snuggled against his shoulder as he kissed her temple and draped an arm over her waist. “Love you,” he murmured. She tipped her head back for a kiss just as someone knocked on the door.

“Hey, guys?” Deke called. “I heard from Davis. They’ll be here in an hour, ok?”

Fitz groaned and flopped back against the pillows, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. Jemma rolled her eyes at his histrionics. Honestly, the two of them were ridiculous. “Thank you, Deke!” she called.

She turned towards Fitz, whose frown was the only thing she could see. Her belly was just big enough that it was hard to hide, and she was both excited about and worried over trying to explain to Daisy why she’d left. Fitz hadn’t seemed to need much of an explanation, having understood immediately both the dangers of space travel and of being a SHIELD agent while carrying their child. Jemma still wasn’t entirely sure if he was alright with staying here permanently, despite his bizarre desire to remodel the entire house before she gave birth. This—the baby, the relocation, the things he’d missed, not to mention leaving SHIELD—was a lot of change for him, all at once, when she’d had months to come to terms with it.

Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to Fitz’s lips. “Shower?” she asked. 

He peeked at her from under his arm. “Together?”

She nodded, watching the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Someone needs to wash my back,” Jemma teased.

“And your front,” Fitz said solemnly, one of his hands wiggling under the covers to cup her bare breast before sliding down over her belly. “Make sure my girls are both clean.”

That was something Jemma hadn’t expected, how easily he’d adjusted to having another person in their lives. Even when they’d just been lab partners, he’d never been good at sharing their space, or their work, or her, really, with anyone else, but he never hesitated to include the baby in almost everything. Sometimes she’d catch him asking for the baby’s opinion on something he was reading in the morning, and she’d pretend to sleep just a little longer to listen to him whisper to her belly.

“Fitz,” Jemma said for what felt like the thousandth time. “You know we’re not sure if it’s a girl. The timeline’s different now, remember?”

“You mean you’re not sure,” Fitz said, sliding his hand a little lower and making Jemma’s breath hitch.

“Shower,” she reminded him, smiling despite herself.

“In a minute.”

***

Deke was sitting on the back stoop when the Zephyr appeared a few hundred yards away, hovering over the flat spot he’d scoped out for David last week. Jemma and Fitz still hadn’t come out of their room, but he wasn’t about to go knock on the door again. The walls in this house were nice and thick, but the doors were a little less soundproof and honestly, the less he knew about how his grandparents were occupying themselves, the better. He was totally aware of how babies were made, thank you very much, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge they’d done it more than once.

He and Fitz had been here almost a month now, and sure, it was nice and all, but Deke was beyond ready to see something other than green hills and lakes, even if it made him feel slightly guilty. “Sorry, Mom,” he offered up to the blue sky.

Also, sleeping on the couch was getting kind of old.

Three figures emerged from the Zephyr and headed his way, and Deke stood up, waving eagerly.

“Dude,” Davis called when he got closer, a wide smile on face. “You are totally two for two on your missions!”

Deke beamed. “Right? I am so awesome at this, who knew?” He punched Davis’s arm. “And that’s for making me Chewbacca, you jerk.”

Davis laughed and Daisy and Piper both rolled their eyes before stopping behind Davis, peering up at the cottage. “This place is so freaking cute I feel like I’m about to get eaten by a witch,” Daisy said.

Piper made a snorting sound and whispered something in Daisy’s ear that made her laugh even while her face turned red. Deke cut his eyes to Davis, who let out a long-suffering sigh. “Man, I am so glad you’re coming back on board. They keep vetoing my end-of-mission restaurant choices.”

“Burrito every time, obviously,” Deke said.

“Right?” Davis spread his arms wide and took a step forward, enveloping Deke in an unexpected hug. Deke had no idea what to do with his arms, so he just kind of froze until Davis let him go again. “Thank god you’re coming back.”

“We are not eating burritos after every mission,” Piper said in exasperation.

“It’s a tradition!” Davis exclaimed.

“We had burritos one time,” Daisy said. “I really don’t think that’s a tradition.”

“It would be if you’d stop vetoing burritos,” Davis said.

“Can we come in?” Piper asked, suppressing a smile.

“They’re here, right?” Daisy asked, darting a glance over Deke’s shoulder.

Deke opened his mouth to answer when he heard the door open behind him. “We’re here,” Jemma said.

Deke watched three jaws drop and turned to Jemma smugly. “See, told you I could keep a secret.”

Jemma shot him an amused look that he was starting to think she reserved just for him, which was kind of cool. “Yes, Deke, I’m aware.”

“Oh my god, Jemma!” Daisy squealed behind him. “You’re pregnant!”

***

The house was very full.

Jemma could hear Fitz directing Piper and Davis as they carried in several boxes of equipment and supplies Mack had sent with them. Deke had snuck off while they worked, but Jemma spotted him a little later heading toward the Zephyr with a couple boxes of his own, presumably the books and junk food he’d been squirreling away since he’d arrived.

Jemma had been instructed to relax and under no circumstances lift anything of any kind, which she imagined did not apply to her mug of tea, despite Fitz’s rather overzealous instructions.

So here she was, sitting on the couch with Daisy, trying to figure out what to say. Daisy kept staring at Jemma’s stomach, then her own hands, then around at the room with its ridiculous star chart Fitz wouldn’t let Jemma take down, ending with her eyes glued to Jemma’s belly again. Jemma worried her lower lip between her teeth and opened her mouth, but Daisy beat her to it.

“It must have been horrible,” Daisy blurted. Her eyes went wide. “Not that a baby is horrible, that’s not what I meant. Babies are great, and your baby is going to be great and I’m really happy for you, I just…” She groaned and slumped back. “Can I start over?”

Jemma couldn’t stop herself from smiling just a little, even though it hurt to realize how far apart she and Daisy had drifted. She’d been the closest thing to a best friend Jemma had had, besides Fitz of course, and it had been nice to have a girl to talk things over with sometimes. “No, you’re right,” Jemma said quietly. “It was horrible and wonderful and rather overwhelming.” She fidgeted with her mug. “I’m sorry I left without…I’m sorry.”

Daisy looked like she was close to tears, and Jemma wasn’t far from them herself. “I’m sorry, too, I knew how hard it must have been for you to lose him, but we were all so busy. I should have tried to talk to you more.” Daisy looked around the room again. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Nearly.”

“And Fitz knew right where you were,” Daisy said, smiling a little. “How’s he doing with…you know, everything?”

“Fine, I think? Better than I would be if I’d been told another version of myself had lived parts of my life I’d never remember and then died.” She smoothed a hand over her belly. “Frankly, he’s taken to this like a duck to water.”

Daisy laughed. “Probably because he had all of his dreams come true at once. You’re married, pregnant, and living in a place that is the literal interpretation of the word ‘quaint’.” Her expression softened, and Jemma began to relax. “I really am happy for you, Jemma. For you and for Fitz.”

“He hates that he hurt you,” Jemma said quietly. “But I can’t tell him he was wrong, even if there might have been another way to accomplish it. He did what he thought he had to, and he…he sacrificed everything for it.”

Daisy stared at the wall again. “I know. I can still be mad about it, though.”

“You can be,” Jemma acknowledged. She could hear the voices of the other’s getting louder as they headed for the sitting room. “But maybe not forever?”

“Definitely not forever,” Daisy replied.

“Hey, where’s Deke?” Davis asked, poking his head into the sitting room.

“Out in the Zephyr,” Jemma said.

“Cool, thanks.” He trotted towards the back door and Piper plopped down next to Daisy on the couch, stretching out an arm behind her. Jemma didn’t miss the way Piper lifted a questioning eyebrow, nor the tiny smile and reassuring pat Daisy gave Piper’s knee. It was nice to see how in tune they were, Jemma couldn’t remember Daisy ever looking so comfortable with someone.

Fitz wandered into the room, frowning at a tablet, and a shiver ran down Jemma’s spine. She could recall, vividly, him doing that exact thing in every iteration of their work life—on the Bus, in the SHIELD bases, aboard the Zephyr, in the Lighthouse—and she didn’t know how to tell him she didn’t think she could ever go back to that life. Not after what she’d lost. Not now, when they had so much more to lose.

Jemma set her tea aside and put both hands on her belly while she concentrated on her breathing, hoping her panic wasn’t too obvious.

“You guys are going to have a nice setup here,” Piper said. “I know Mack’s glad you’re willing to consult while you’re waiting for the baby to get here.”

Daisy frowned. “Hey, wait, did Mack already know about the baby?”  

Fitz looked up, his expression guilty. “I, uh, may have told him a couple weeks ago, but made him promise not to ruin the surprise for the rest of you.” He set the tablet aside, frowning slightly, and crouched in front of Jemma. “Feeling ok?” he whispered, settling a hand over hers.

“Fine,” Jemma said. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she just shook her head and linked their fingers together. He absently ran the pad of one finger over the ring she was still wearing on her thumb. That was another thing they hadn’t talking about much yet. As far as she was concerned, they were married, and he could have his ring back whenever he wanted it, but if he preferred another wedding she’d be happy with that, too.

“It’s going to be weird, having Deke onboard instead of you guys,” Daisy sighed.

Fitz stood up, still holding Jemma’s hand. “Things change,” he said quietly. “And with the baby…we can’t keep putting ourselves in dangerous situations expecting to come out on the other side.”

Jemma’s chest felt too tight, and she knew her grip on Fitz’s hand was probably painful, but she couldn’t bear to let him go. He tugged her up from the couch before sliding under her and settling her down in his lap. She tucked her head against the crook of his neck, breathing easier now. 

“You’re not coming back, are you?” Daisy asked.

“Can’t see how that’d work,” Fitz said, shrugging. “But we can help from here.” Jemma wanted to drag him back to their bedroom and reenact their morning so she could show him exactly how much she loved him. She should have known he’d be thinking along the same lines she was, she just hadn’t expected him to catch up so quickly. She felt a little foolish. She pressed a kiss behind his ear and lifted her head as he cradled her belly with his palm. 

Swiping at her watery eyes, Jemma tried to smile. “We’ll definitely help from here, and you’re welcome anytime.”

“Hey, are you guys ready…” Deke stopped in the doorway, frowning. “Everything ok?”

“Fine,” Jemma said, this time with more conviction. She got to her feet and went to give Deke a hug, which he accepted with surprisingly little resistance. “Be careful. I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”

“Did you pack the ICER I modified?” Fitz asked.

Deke rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course I did.”

“Ok, but just remember, it’s weighted differently to keep you from shooting so damn high, and your palm’s the only one programmed into the grip, so don’t mix it up with the others.”

“Fitz,” Jemma sighed.

“The gravity is different here!” Deke said, putting his hands on his hips. “I shoot just fine.”

Davis patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s cool, Mack’s got us all on training schedules now.”

“Oh my god, they’re already parents,” Jemma heard Daisy whisper to Piper. 

Jemma reached out, finding Fitz’s hand, and watched the others head for the back door, chattering with one another and calling their goodbyes. “Sure you’re ok?” Fitz asked quietly.

“Yes.” Jemma squeezed his hand. “I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

“Always. And this one.” Fitz tucked her back against him and wrapped his arms around her, resting one hand on her belly. She listened to the sound of the engines faded into the distance while Fitz rested his chin on her shoulder and let out a sigh. “And Deke, I suppose. Are you really sure he’s-”

“And Deke,” Jemma confirmed, patting his hand.

“Future’s a little different than I imagined,” Fitz said. “Better.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” Jemma smiled. “Everything’s changed.”


	8. Epilogue

Deke groaned. Piper was striding purposefully down the hall in front of him like it wasn’t pre-breakfast and possibly pre-sunrise, he hadn’t bothered to check.

“Are they on yet?” Piper said, going into the control room just ahead of him and glancing at the wall of monitors.

Daisy poked at something on her tablet. “They should be calling in a minute, is Deke with you?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” he grumbled, shuffling into the room. “Do we have to do this at such an ungodly hour?”

“It’s 6 am,” Piper said.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Deke asked.

“Hey, are they on?” Davis poked his head into the room. “Have you seen the baby?” Deke glared at him and his overabundance of cheerfulness this early in the day. He didn’t think Davis even had bad moods, that jerk.

“Everyone be quiet, they’re calling in now,” Daisy said, looking up from her tablet with a smile as Fitz and Jemma appeared on the monitor. Or rather, half of their living room appeared, along with Fitz’s ear as he leaned out of frame. They must be calling in from a tablet rather than their usual connection from the home lab. “Uh, guys?”

“Hang on,” Fitz said, sounding harried. “Jemma, do you need-”

“Got it!” she said somewhere off screen. A moment later she settled onto the couch next to Fitz with a baby nestled against her shoulder. Deke squinted at the screen, trying to decide if it was really that small or if it was some trick of the camera. “Hello,” she said breathlessly. Fitz was treating them all to a view of his other ear now, watching Jemma and the baby. “Sorry, we’re still getting the hang of this.”

“She’s so little!” Daisy gasped, clasping her hands together. She held her hands out at the monitor like Jemma could pass the baby through. “Let me see her, does she look like you or Fitz?”

Fitz grinned, finally facing the camera. “Jemma mostly, lucky for her.”

Jemma clucked her tongue and carefully lifted the baby off her shoulder. Fitz cradled the baby’s head in his palm and turned her until they were treated to a close-up of the baby’s face. Deke wrinkled his nose. It didn’t really look like either Jemma or Fitz to him. It looked like a baby. If it was his mom, or the woman who would have been in mom in another timeline, he couldn’t tell.

Daisy squealed, and Piper made some kind of cooing noise that weirded Deke out a little. “She’s beautiful,” Davis said, sounding awed. Deke tilted his head, frowning and tried to come up with something to say.

“Deke?” Fitz had moved the baby back a little and Jemma was peering into the camera hopefully. “What do you think?”

Behind her, Deke saw Fitz roll his eyes, and that, more than anything else, made Deke feel much better. Some things would never change, no matter who this baby grew up to be. “Um, she…does kinda look like you,” Deke said, surprised. Now that they were side by side, Deke could see hints of Jemma in the baby’s nose and the shape of her eyes.

“She is seriously the cutest thing ever,” Daisy said, just as the baby screwed up her tiny face and let out a wail that was way louder than Deke would have thought possible. “And apparently has very healthy lungs.”

They all watched as various elbows and heads and at one point some tiny baby feet filled the video screen while the baby continued to cry, until finally she was nestled back in the crook of Jemma’s arm and Jemma was…

“Argh!” Deke slapped a hand over his eyes. “Can we not scar me for life, please?”

“Whoa, Jems, your rack looks great,” Daisy said. 

“Thank you!” Jemma replied cheerfully.

“Would you stop checking out my wife’s rack, please?” Fitz said, sounding annoyed. Deke risked a peek through his fingers in time to see Fitz’s hand covering the camera, his fingers filling up the monitor as Daisy sat back in her chair, laughing.

They could hear Fitz and Jemma talking in the background, trying to figure out where something had gone, when Daisy suddenly let out a gasp. Fitz’s hand immediately fell away from the camera, but Deke saw with relief that Jemma had a blanket over the nursing baby now. “What?” Fitz asked in alarm.

“You guys got married again and didn’t invite us?” Daisy asked, sounding offended.

Fitz frowned. “No.”

“Oh,” Daisy said. “I just thought…you weren’t wearing your ring last time I saw you.”

Deke watched his grandparents have one of their entirely silent conversations before Fitz leaned over, kissing Jemma and then the top of the baby’s head before turning back to the camera. “We’re going to have an anniversary party later this year, alright?”

“I guess,” Daisy sighed. “As long as I’m invited.”

“You’re definitely invited,” Jemma said, peeking under the blanket. “You’ll all have to come and meet her in person.”

“I can’t wait,” Daisy said.

Jemma looked up at the camera again, smiling. “Me neither. Tell everyone we said hello?”

“Will do.”

Deke let out a yawn. “Cool, well, nice job on the baby. I’m going back to bed.” Piper dropped her head onto her hand and even Davis sent him a pitying look. “What?”

The baby let out a cry again, this one quieter, and Jemma shushed her as Fitz reached over to help. “Hang on, just let me-” Jemma said.

“I can do it,” Fitz said. “I’ve got her.”

“Yes, I know, but…there we go.” She’d somehow rewrapped the blanket so it was just around the baby, and, Deke was relieved to see, pulled her top back into place. Fitz held the baby against his shoulder, gently patting her back. “We’ll see you all soon. Be careful, please.” Jemma said, leaning toward the camera. The video monitor went dark a moment later.

“By the way, you’re supposed to say congratulations, not nice job,” Daisy said, turning to Deke with a smirk. “We’re celebrating her birth, not her conception.”

Deke wrinkled his nose. “What? Oh, come on, that’s just…ugh, I hate you guys.”

“Mutual,” Piper said, grinning.

“Come on.” Davis headed for the door. “Let’s get some chow.”

“They serve breakfast this early?” Deke asked skeptically.

“There’s a whole world before 10 am for you to discover,” Davis said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Since the rest of us don’t get cushy missions like yours. Where’d you hang out last night?”

“Place in New Orleans.” Deke yawned again. “Someone’s selling something they claim came from the alien spaceship we blew up. Haven’t made contact yet, but the guys I was drinking with were way shady, so hopefully, they’ll turn up tonight.”

“Fitzsimmons get all the cool jobs,” Davis said, sounding wistful.

“My last name’s Shaw.”

“You’re totally a Fitzsimmons, dude.”

“No, I’m…” Deke paused. “I mean, I guess so?” He’d never thought of it like that before. Jemma and Fitz had always been a link between him and mom, but he hadn’t really considered what that meant now that the timeline had changed. Since his parents were growing up in an entirely different, not-cracked-apart world, this might be the only lifetime he got. Huh. He guessed he’d better make the most of it.

Good thing he had such awesome genes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, it's done! Thanks for all the lovely comments and for letting me work through my post 5x22 feelings with Perthshire and a healthy dose of sap (and Deke).


End file.
